Lay Him Down To Sleep
by Savannah O'Ryan
Summary: She knew that it didn't matter how much of herself and her heart she was willing to sacrifice, he would never belong to her. He belonged to time and when the moment came, she'd let him go.
1. PART I

_**AN: **__First and foremost, it is important to remember that no matter how this begins, this story is AU. That will become glaringly obvious soon enough, but just be forewarned. Second and final, this was written last spring, around the time of TDOU, and was left mostly unfinished and unedited until a few days ago when I came across it and felt the urge to finish. I hope you enjoy it or are open minded enough to read it through to the end before making a decision._

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

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~*~

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**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART ONE**

"_And now I'm glad I didn't know; the way it all would end; the way it all would go__."_

_-The Dance, Garth Brooks_

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_June_

Gabriella Montez's last day in Albuquerque had perfect weather. Lying on her stomach, her face buried in her folded arms, she felt the sun burning into the skin on her expose shoulders. For once during the last few months, her thoughts were clear and while grief still wrung her heart, her soul was at peace with her choices. A slight breeze swept across the open area and rustled the blades of grass beside her face. A small smile flitted across her lips and she bit her lip as she turned her head to the side and opened her eyes.

Golden beams of light spread and danced along the lawn, the sunlight broken by the shadows cast by rows of headstones spaced evenly around her. Tilting her head, her eyes caught the inscription engraved in the granite stone nearest to her. Twisting so she could prop herself up on one hand, Gabriella brought her other hand to rest, feather light, against the smooth surface. Her fingers traced the name and the words below. _May the angels take him home_, she read for the hundredth time, her gaze dipping to catch the date of death that was less than a week ago.

It pained her to think that he was truly gone. She was past the stage of denying it. She was no longer shocked to enter the house and not be greeted by him from the couch. When her phone rang while she was at the grocery story, she didn't answer it thinking it was him only to be greeted by someone else. Instead, she tried to move forward. The passing months hadn't prepared her for the finality of his death. It had seemed sharp and sudden; ripping the air from her lungs when his brother had told her. Even now, no longer angry or in denial, she mourned her loss.

Her fingers brushed against the petals of white roses left by another as she memorized every detail of the grave marker. Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against the cool surface and sucked in a trembling breath. Footsteps sounded behind her but she stayed the way she was. Seconds ticked by before she turned so that her cheek rested against the headstone and her eyes opened to give her a view of the road several yards away. The rusted white truck sat on the path beside the wrought iron fence, the sun glinting off the faded paint and curved hood. The person behind her shifted, anxious and unsure.

"You're going to miss your flight," he told her, his voice catching on the last word as he followed the movement of her fingers against his brother's name.

"You don't have to drive me," she said softly, her mind on other things, "I could have taken a cab to make things easier."

"Nothing is going to make this easier," he replied, swallowing the lump in his throat and willing himself to stay strong. "Please let me do this, Gabriella. Give me one more hour."

Still sitting, Gabriella turned to look over her shoulder and found herself looking into eyes the color of sapphires. They were so clear she could feel herself falling into their depths. Her gaze danced along the familiar lines of his jaw and forehead. The perfect cheek bones and the lips she had kissed countless times. That thought had once made her giddy all over, but time had wrought it into a feeling of guilt for what she had dumped on his shoulders. Sadness washed through her as she realized he was her final connection to this place and the boy in the ground.

"I told myself I wouldn't cry if I saw you today," she told him with a watery smile as she dashed a hand across her damp cheeks. "I don't deserve to cry for you."

Sighing, he dropped down beside her and used his arm to pull her to his side where she let silent tears escape and dampen his shirt. She had broken his heart a thousand times over and yet he loved her still. She loved him too, he knew, but it was flawed and stretched beyond repair. They had been happy once, cocooned in their private life thousands of miles away at college before one phonecall ended it all. She had sacrificed what lay between the two of them to make someone else happy and he wanted to hate her for it. He wanted to, and he would have, had the other person been anyone but his brother.

"You made him smile even on his last days," he insisted, letting his fingers play with her curls as he remembered, "No one but you could do it, and for that you deserve to cry for whatever you want."

"God, I miss him," she whispered harshly as if other visitors could overhear her. "So, so much."

"I know," he replied, letting his chin rest on the top of her head as she stared across the cemetery lawn towards the white truck he had driven to retrieve her. "I do too."

"Do you ever try to make sense of it all?" she asked, trying to ignore how he knew all the right things to say. His brother was dead. It should be her comforting him and not the other way around.

"I thought you believed in fate and destiny; that everything has a purpose or some higher meaning," he answered, looking down at her and feeling his chest hurt at the thought that she was leaving within the hour. "Are you second guessing that?"

"No," she said quietly, shaking her head, "But sometimes I'd like to know what the deeper reason was for all of this. Did I meet him to meet you? Or did I meet you to bring me back to him? Or was it something bigger than me finding someone to love? Is it to show us something so much bigger than that?"

"There's nothing bigger than love, Gabriella. He used to tell me that all the time and I know now he was right." The wind teased at a strand of her hair and she reached to tuck it behind her ear. The spark that used to be there when they touched was gone as her skin rubbed against his.

"How can you not hate me? After everything, how can you stand to talk to me?" she lifted her face to watch his and she gasped at the amount of emotion in his eyes as he tried to think straight. Sighing, he looked away, over her head, towards the truck.

"You loved him. Stop thinking I could ever hate you for that," he told her, running the back of his hand along her cheek for the last time. "I could never hate you for anything, but especially not for that."

"Sometimes I want to hate him for leaving; for not fighting harder," she whispered, "But I just can't."

"Me too," he agreed, letting the silence seep in around them.


	2. PART II

_**AN:** I hope that clears up the confusion some people had. For the record, it was intentional. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

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~*~

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**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART TWO**

"_Let me go home, I'm just too far from where you are__."_

_-Home, Michael Buble_

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_Six Months Earlier-December_

Her hands shook as she settled another neatly folded sweater inside the extra large suitcase on her bed. Smoothing out invisible wrinkles, Gabriella reached for a pair of jeans and added them to the growing stash, followed by more sweaters and a smaller pile of tank tops. Nestling her boots in between the layers of clothes, she glanced around the room to make sure nothing had been forgotten. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she ducked inside the tiny bathroom that she shared with her roommate and gathered up her toothbrush and other necessities. Reaching under the sink for her hairdryer and straightener, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and froze.

She looked upset and stressed, something that she could not allow to be seen by others. Sighing, she wrapped cold fingers around the ceramic of the sink and let her chin drop to her chest as she tried to settle her nerves. Sucking in a breath, she held it for a count of ten before letting it out through pursed lips. Raising her eyes to meet their reflection in the mirror, she rubbed her fingers under her eyeslashes to catch any stray tears. Running a hand through her hair and fluffing it up around her crown, she rummaged through the small cosmetic bag perched beside the sink and pulled out a tub of clear lipgloss to slide across smooth lips. Rubbing her cheeks, she frowned at how little color her face held. She was tired from sleepless nights of finals and planning, and exhausted from hiding her nerves while dealing with her boyfriend's anxious twittering movements. Neither one of them could think straight, but she let him believe it was because of the looming awkwardness and not something deeper. Not guilt.

Straightening the neckline of her white longsleeved t-shirt, Gabriella adjusted its hem and grabbed the remaining items from the bathroom that she would need on the trip. Christmas break had begun the day before, having completed her final exam and passed in her last paper to her political science professor, and she had exactly one hour to finish packing and have her things lugged to the front lobby of the residence building in time for her boyfriend to pick her up and begin the drive from Stanford University to Albuquerque, New Mexico where his parents lived.

Gabriella's original Christmas plans had been drastically changed in the last twenty-four hours. She had spent the semester counting down the days until she and her boyfriend could accompany their friends to the ski resort in Colorado where they had all rented rooms in a cozy cabin and purchased a week long ski pass to allow them to hit the slopes every day. They were supposed to be flying there tomorrow morning. They were supposed to be there until the day before Christmas Eve when they would all fly to their respective families' homes and enjoy a relaxed break. She was supposed to be excited, but a phone call the morning before had begun a train wreck that resulted in cancelled flight tickets and cabin rooms.

Her mother was stuck in Spain, held up over a visa problem that meant she would probably not return to Boston in time for Christmas. Gabriella knew it wasn't on purpose, but she couldn't help but be disappointed at the timing. Her mother had taken a leave of absence from work to return to Spain to handle the case of her late father's estate. Having moved to the States at a young age, Maria Montez had handed the care of her family estate in Spain off to an aunt who had until recently, been tending to the upkeep and care of the home. Having passed away suddenly last month, Maria had returned to sort out the mess, and was now overseas until her visa could be sorted out.

That alone would not have altered Gabriella's plans for the holiday. In fact, her boyfriend had readily speed dialled his mother and requested that Gabriella be included for their Christmas festivities. She hadn't been present for the conversation, but she knew when he returned that something had changed. Instead of being giddy and excited to be bringing her home and showing her off like all those times he'd threatened to, he had been closed off and subdued. His usually sparkling blue eyes, something that had drawn her to him in the first place, had looked haunted when he finally looked up at her from his phone that was still cradled in his palm. Her smile at the anticipation had dropped when he met her eyes and she frowned with worry and confusion. When questioned, he had shrugged and told her that his mother would gladly welcome her for Christmas and that he was just worried about his brother. His mother had mentioned that the doctor assigned to the basketball team at the University of Albuquerque had had him benched during the game the night before when he took a hard knock on the court and felt dizzy afterwards. Snapping out of his thoughts, he had smiled at Gabriella and kissed her forehead before running off to his last final exam which left her to begin a packing spree for their trip.

Another phone call from Albuquerque later that afternoon had led to the cancellation of their ski trip and instead they decided to pack their things and drive directly to Albuquerque. This time it had been Jack Bolton, who called just after the completion of his son's exam to tell him that his brother had been rushed to the emergency room after passing out on the basketball court during practice that afternoon. He had calmly mentioned tests and doctors and routines over the phone, but even Gabriella could feel the tension filling the room as his words fell flat on his youngest son's ears. Five minutes after hanging up, Gabriella was on the phone with the airline and her boyfriend was outside checking the oil in his SUV. They weren't going skiing. They were going home.

Zipping her suitcase closed, Gabriella slung her purse over her shoulder and gave the room a final glance before gripping the handle on her luggage and pulling it behind her as she exited the room. Her roommate would be back that evening and would find the note on her bed from Gabriella, explaining everything. Locking the door behind her, she smiled at the group of guys parading in victory down the hallway as they announced the official start to their break. The elevator ride down the three floors was quiet, leaving her too much time to think but also enough time to suck in a breath and steady her nerves. The bells decorating the fake tree in the corner of the lobby tinkled as the wind rushed through the open door. Rolling her suitcase across the sidewalk, she could see how tense her boyfriend was with the way he took the bags from her and piled them unceremoniously in the back of the vehicle.

"Have you heard anything," she asked quietly, climbing into the passenger seat as he jammed the keys into the ignition and forced the engine to start. Watching him, she felt cut off from his thoughts for the first time in months.

"Dad said they were running an MRI and a CT scan this morning. He said it was routine but he wasn't sure what they would be looking for," he answered, his anxiety ringing through the syllables in his words. Looking to her as he waited for traffic to clear at the exit from the residence driveway, his gaze was unsettled and pleading and she knew what he wanted from her. "Gab, I'm a math major. I watch sports and I enjoy a little CSI now and then; you're the pre-med major," he swallowed to give himself time to assure himself he wanted her answer. "What would they be looking for?"

"It could be anything," she answered slowly, her mind working overtime to keep her suspicions to herself until they were home and his parents had better answers for him. "You said the point guard fouled him. It could be a concussion."

"It's not, Gab, I can feel it," he confessed and she realized that he was terrified of what was waiting for them. "I know it's cynical and wrong, but I can feel it in my gut that it's something big. He's been mentioning headaches for awhile; not on purpose, but I don't think he realizes how often it slips out. His game's been off; even dad has been commenting on it." He let out a heavy breath and his hand snaked across the emergency brake to grip her hand. "I need to be ready, Gab. I need to know what the worst case scenario could be so when I walk into that house, I don't crack in front of him."

His eyes bored into the side of her face as she kept her eyes on the road. The interstate stretched before them; leading to a place she had never been but had been told about repeatedly. Guardrails cut off their views of pastures and open fields that held no purpose except to make the trip seem to last an eternity. A house or two, a handful of buildings, a glimpse of a road sign, were all that broke the simplistic view and yet inside the SUV, Gabriella was trying to remain stoic. She couldn't let her emotions dictate her words because he didn't need that right now. He needed cold hard facts because that's how he handled everything in life. He needed to analyze and have a plan, which was why he was begging for her limited expertise. He had never welcomed surprises.

"Eyes on the road," she reminded him gently, pulling her hand from his grip to indicate that he should return both hands to the wheel. Silence dragged on because they both knew she would answer and therefore he gave her time. It did nothing to ease his fears. "You realize that it could just be a concussion? Or chronic migraines?"

"I get that I may be overreacting," he spit, "But I need to know. I feel like they are leaving me in the dark just so that I get home in one piece. My dad would not have been the one to call if Mom was able to; which means she couldn't lie over the phone and that means the worst case scenario."

"A brain tumour," she told him softly, not missing the swift intake of breath from the driver's side of the vehicle. "Do you want to pull over? I can drive."

"No," he replied through clenched teeth, his knuckles white on the wheel and his movements jerky as he guided them along an incline in the road.

"You're twenty miles over the limit," she added. The speedometer dropped as he eased his foot of the gas, and she inwardly smirked at how well she could push his buttons to remain within the guidelines of any situation at a given time. Returning back to the conversation at hand, she propped one elbow on the door of the SUV and twisted to allow all of him to be within her scope of vision. "That's the worst case scenario given his symptoms."

They were both silent as the words hung in the air. She contemplated what that would mean for him. For his family. For a brief moment, she considered what that would do to her, but she pushed it aside as a pointless worry that was unimportant in comparison. On the other side, his thoughts raced as her eyes remained steady on his face, waiting for a moment of faltering. When it didn't come, she relaxed slightly and let him work through it on his own. Sinking into her own thoughts, Gabriella found herself remembering how they had met in the first place.

It had been during the orientation week at Stanford for freshmen back in September and Gabriella had been at the campus bookstore gathering up everything she needed. He had possessed a handful of inches that she hadn't and had helped after watching her struggle for a few moments by reaching a text off the top shelf. They had chatted and Gabriella had left with the feeling that she knew him; his dazzling eyes so intense and yet seemingly familiar at the same time. Her new roommate, ever the romantic, had called it fate. They had met up again at a welcome barbeque and learned that their roommates were best friends from Phoenix. They had joined the newly developed group of people for pizza that night, but the next night it was only the two of them seated at the coffee shop just off the main pathway between the library and the administration building. It had gone from there; their mutual areas of interest aiding in a budding relationship. They both enjoyed mathematics and science, although they were not pursuing the same career paths.

It had been so easy, Gabriella remembered, considering how her history with boys had gone in the past with the constant upheaval of her mother's job. They just clicked and along the way, it became second nature to call each other over everything. Gabriella often wondered how different her relationship with him was from best friends, never having had one past the age of seven when she lived in Charlotte, South Carolina. He wasn't her first boyfriend, but he was the first for a lot of other things. People called them perfect, but on the inside, Gabriella found herself questioning the depth of their feelings. They had yet to say those three little words, and she wondered what it would take for her to feel that way. Everything between them was fun and simple. She was happy, but she wasn't content. She was restless, but he never budged from his place of comfort. She wanted something that she had expected from him, but after peeling away as many layers as she could, she had come to realize he didn't have whatever it was she sought. A quick movement as he turned on the headlights, the sun slipping lower, caught her attention and she shifted from the cramped position she had settled into almost thirty minutes ago.

"So what happens if that's what it is?" he asked as if the conversation had never lapsed. It always irritated her when he did that, but she sighed and cut him some slack. "They cut it out? Chemo?"

"Possibly," she replied slowly, letting him weigh her words. "It could be benign; it could be inoperable."

"So the worst case scenario is that he could die," his voice sounded high to her as he said it out loud. The lines around his mouth tightened and Gabriella wished she had never answered him in the first place. For what seemed like the hundredth thousandth time since meeting him, Gabriella found her eyes wandering over every aspect of his face. The blue eyes were piercing through the windshield, barely flicking away from the road except when he felt the need to make eye contact with her. His hair, always slightly unruly, was in need of a haircut but she realized that would be irrelevant at the moment to mention. Her gaze slid down his neck to his shoulders, to his arms that were well defined from playing years of basketball before dropping to a strictly recreational level in college. His words rolled through her and the meaning behind them made Gabriella nauseous to the point of needing to swallow the rising bile. "You're saying that my twenty-one year old brother could die."

The rational, educated side of her wanted to tell him the odds and the chemistry behind her prediction. She wanted to mention the article she had read for fun the week before about new treatments. She wanted to be unemotional and detached, but it was impossible given the personal ties to the situation. Instead, she wanted to deny everything. Trying to push away her own feelings of discomfort and panic, she found that underneath her rational side was bubbling anger at how he had managed to drag her into his world of doubt. She couldn't be there. She couldn't sit for the rest of drive wondering about the future of the Bolton family. She refused to think of it with one person less.

"You asked what it could be. There are a hundred things that it could be. He could be overworked, for God's sake. You're putting yourself in a place you don't need to be," she told him darkly, never one for doling out pessimism where it wasn't necessary. "Just focus on driving home and you can deal with whatever your parents throw at you then."

"You mean 'we'," he corrected absently. "You're going to be there too."

"It's not the same for me though, is it?" she asked vaguely, "He's your older brother."

"You're going to love him," he told her with a smile, all thoughts of death vanishing for a moment. "He's just one of those people everyone loves and everyone wants to be around. He's really excited to meet you."

"He knows I'm coming?" She wasn't sure how she felt about how much the two Bolton's had discussed about her without her knowing.

"Yeah, of course. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

She let him return his gaze to the road as she went back to looking out the window. Fifteen minutes, when the silence had been sufficient enough to convince him of her act, she pretended to fall asleep.

~*~

They drove through the night, only stopping long enough for Gabriella to take over the wheel and navigate the familiar roads through Arizona. Just before sunrise of the next morning, she slipped out of the driver's side and entered McDonald's to grab enough greasy breakfast to sustain them for the next few hours. When she returned, he had taken his spot behind the wheel once again and she silently slid in on the other side. The food was divided and eaten, the whole practice taking less than thirty minutes and only a handful of words tossed between them about the route they would take and the predicted good weather. He guided them back to the interstate while she used her phone to text a message to her mother and their friends who had arrived at the ski resort and wanted to check up on the two of them.

Gabriella started up a conversation when the tense quiet in the vehicle began to make her restless. He joined, reluctant at first, and they discussed their classes for the next term and their predictions for their final marks. They chatted about Christmas shopping and Gabriella managed to keep him interested in her family connections in Spain and her mother's job. He in turn understood her need to keep his mind of things and gave her answers to questions she asked. He talked about his old high school and how his dad's basketball team was doing in the Albuquerque and surrounding area standings. A few childhood memories were mentioned and Gabriella smiled softly, thinking of the image he painted of two little boys helping their dad build a tree house in the backyard. When he broke off, she realized he had asked her a question.

"Sorry," she apologized and he laughed at how common it was for her to get lost in her thoughts.

"I said we're going to need gas," he explained as he turned the car off the main road and into a service station, "Did you want anything?"

"No, I'm good," she told him, leaning back into the seat as he got out to fill the tank.

The sun was rising behind the trees, its light casting shadows across the parking lot and the dashboard of the SUV. Gabriella pulled her sunglasses from the console between the seats and jammed them into place. Turning her head, she saw her boyfriend replace the gas nozzle and dig out his wallet as he trekked to the building to pay the attendant. He paused halfway and dug the phone from his pocket, glancing at it before answering, and then ducked inside where he disappeared from sight. Pulling her fingers through her hair, she fished an elastic out of her purse and pulled down the visor to use the mirror. Piling her hair in a messy bun, she swept a hand across her forehead to adjust her bangs and then flipped the visor back into pace when he returned with a receipt in hand.

"Who was on the phone?" she asked lightly, clicking her seatbelt back in place.

"Dad," he answered, his voice even. "The hospital released him an hour ago. They're at home; he said we'd talk then." He took a deep breath before merging into traffic and continuing. "That could be good, right? That they let him go home so soon?"

"Yeah," she told him softly, "It could be."

He seemed to accept her answer, settling into the seat and fiddling with the radio stations as he drove. The silence this time was calm and hopeful, but Gabriella felt that the quiet was smothering her. As the trees blurred by her on the highway, she couldn't help but think that the stillness was like a building hurricane, threatening to spin away anything peaceful.

~*~

The neighbourhood that he guided the SUV through was quiet. Moderately sized homes lined the streets, their lawns sprawling around them with perfectly tended garden beds lining the driveways with two shiny cars per household. Here or there a child`s bike lay temporarily abandoned on a front yard or a soccer ball rolled lazily on a porch. It was so serene and perfect that it screamed of golden childhoods and stable family lives. Yes, Gabriella was not naive enough to think that these people were as flawless as their exteriors would like her, a stranger, to believe, but it still made the reality of her situation that much more hard to swallow.

Behind each door they drove past, she knew each family inside had their own story. Maybe their lives weren`t so stable. Maybe money was not as assessable as their shiny cars made the neighbours think. And maybe things weren`t so happy go lucky as the carefree children playing tag in the backyard. As the vehicle rolled to a stop beside the curb in front of a two-story, brick fronted home with a low slung porch and a two-door garage off to the side, Gabriella knew that no one approaching the Bolton home would ever guess that their world was not serene or quiet or peaceful at the current moment. No would guess that uncertainty rocked the family`s foundation.

Nervously touselling some life into her limp curls, Gabriella waited for the person in the driver`s seat to cut the engine and gather himself before pushing open the door, and then she did the same. Her feet hit the pavement and she looked up just as the front door opened and a tall man in his fifties that she recognized from pictures, stepped out onto the pathway. Jack Bolton shared many of his youngest son`s features, such as the broad shoulders and well proportioned chest and waist. The sandy blond hair that ran in the family looked like it had been harassed multiple times since being out of the shower and there were lines around his eyes that hadn`t been there when Gabriella met him once before when he was visiting campus the week before Thanksgiving. He offered her a weak smile as the two students approached the front walkway, turning his focus to his son as he folded him into an embrace that Gabriella could see was more intense than a casual `welcome home` hug.

She turned to step back, intending to unload the truck while the family had a moment of privacy, but Jack called out to her and no one present was oblivious to the pain in his voice. Lifting her face, she felt like her life was stamped across its planes; every secret bare to the world. The feeling washed away as she saw the tears shimmering in his eyes. Her worst case scenario rang in her ears, the finality of what she had told her boyfriend on the drive home crushing her.

"Dad?" he asked from beside her, and she shifted her gaze in time to catch the disbelief flashing across his face. His skin had paled and his jaw was set in preparation to deny whatever was coming. "Where is he?"

"Upstairs," Jack answered with an even look that made every word hold weight, "Harassing your mother to make chocolate cheesecake for supper."

"But they let him come home, so that's good, right?" Gabriella's heart broke as she got her first glimpse of the little brother in him. The hope was quickly extinguished and she watched the air rush out of him and take his strength with it. "He's fine, right? He has to be fine."

"Son, he's not fine," Jack replied quietly, his hand reaching across the space only for the younger boy to step away. "He's not going to be fine."

"But, I don't understand-," he stopped to swallow and Gabriella noticed how fast his breathing was. "-He can't be-They could be wrong-"

"They're not wrong," came the gentle response and Gabriella turned to see Lucille Bolton standing in the doorway looking worn and exhausted. "Believe me, I have argued that with them more times than you'd like to know. They didn't even have to look that hard to find it." The words seemed to choke her before she was able to continue, her husband using his calloused hands to squeeze her shoulders. "Apparently, your brother was keeping secrets."

"Secrets? Like what? What did they fucking find?" His voice was so low that no one could call it screaming but Gabriella knew it was only for the sake of the open door and the other occupant inside the house.

"He's been having dizzy spells for awhile. Vomiting, too, when it got really bad. The migraines were nearly every day and he's mentioned tingling in his hands to Chad more than once lately," Jack explained softly and Gabriella could feel her own assessment coming back to haunt her. "His grades were slipping because he couldn't concentrate."

"So what does that all mean?" He spun to plead with Gabriella, knowing that she would be able to follow the flow of information more than him. She had tried to hide it, but he could read the answer on her face. "The worst case scenario," he murmured, eyes shut to avoid anyone seeing the tears. He had caught the nod of her head though, the response to his question. "So what do they do? Gab said that sometimes there are options. He has options, right?"

"Honey, that's why he's home. It's gone too far," Lucille's voice caught and Gabriella wondered how it was she hadn't broken down yet. She was a mother losing her child and yet she was hanging on to strength for her youngest.

"But, he's twenty-one. It doesn't make any sense."

"I know it doesn't, but that doesn't mean we can change it," Jack reminded him. "He needs us, right now. All of us."

"How long? How much time do we have?"

"Six months if he's lucky; it's a guessing game," Jack murmured. "Nothing's certain anymore."

"What do I do?" He sounded so young to Gabriella then, lost and frightened.

"You go see your brother. You act like this was any other Christmas vacation. You introduce him to your girlfriend. He's still the same person, Buddy," Jack told him, winding an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. "He's waiting for you upstairs. He knew that we wanted to be the ones to tell you."

"What about Gabriella? She doesn't have anywhere to go, but if he doesn't want her here-," he stopped when his mother frowned and shook her head vigorously.

"Nonsense. He wants her here as well. Be ready for him to tease you, though; he's done nothing but talk about when you two would get here," she replied kindly, giving Gabriella a sympathetic look. "Take her up there with you and tell him if he wants cheesecake for supper, he'd better plan to eat the actual meal first."

Gabriella knew that no words could cut through the pain all of them were feeling at the moment, so she simply muttered a quiet 'thank you' and followed her boyfriend inside where he kicked off his sneakers on the mat and proceeded to the staircase off the living room. Pausing at the bottom, he turned to look for her, squeezing the hand she offered as she came up behind him. He searched her face for hesitation, but she had managed to hide it quick enough that he drew courage from her stance and put one foot on the stair tread.

"You don't have to do this now, if you don't want," he assured her, turning around to look over his shoulder, "I can introduce you at dinner, after you've settled in."

"I'm fine," she told him, giving him a fake smile, "Don't worry about me."

"Alright," he breathed, licking his lips and sucking in a heavy breath, "Let's go see Troy."

And Gabriella followed Andrew Bolton up the stairs to his brother's room.


	3. PART III

_**AN:**__ Everyone's reviews meant a lot last update. I'm sorry this one took so long, but hopefully it meets expectations._

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

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~*~

* * *

**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART THREE**

"_Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern Stars."_

_-God Bless The Broken Road, Rascal Flatts_

* * *

His back was to the door when Andy knocked and nudged it open. Gabriella stood directly behind him and hopefully out of sight, her emotions raging and her blood pounding in her ears. Her palm felt sweaty in Andy's grasp and she internally chastised herself for being unable to think straight. She remembered Jack's words to Andy downstairs, about Troy being the same person, but all she could think about was that everything had changed in those seconds and would never return to the way it was.

She heard Troy's greeting and the creak of the mattress as he rose from where he had been sitting on his bed. There was a clear, single note of laughter when he turned to see his younger brother standing awkwardly in the doorway, and Gabriella felt tears spring to her eyes at the life resonating in it. She didn't have to push her way around Andy to see the shaggy brown hair or the crystal blue eyes or the sculpted cheek bones. She could see him clearly in her own mind as if she saw him every day of her life. Troy Bolton was memorable like that.

"Andy, Dude, it took you long enough! How slow did you drive?" Troy joked, one arm wrapping around his brother's neck and pulling him into a head lock to ruffle at the gel in his hair. "I swore that Christmas would be over by the time you arrived."

"Sorry, man," Andy smiled, all awkwardness being pushed aside as Troy ignored the obvious tension and pretended nothing was different, "Gabriella had to stop and pee like twenty times."

"It's a girl thing," Troy advised him, shaking his head and his eyes sparkling with mischief as he looked into the hallway behind Andy. "So where is this girl that you don't shut up about? You didn't leave her with mom, did you? Because that would just be-"

"No, she's right here." Gabriella heard Andy cut his brother off just as he stepped aside and tugged her in front of him. Her eyes remained downcast, her hair spilling over one shoulder, and her free arm that was crossed over her chest gripped her sweater tighter as a shiver rippled through her. "Troy, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Gabriella Montez. Gab, this is my brother, Troy."

Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his, seeing him for the first time in almost a year. She had been right about his hair and his eyes earlier when his image flashed through her head, although seeing it in person took her breath away. He was taller than she remembered, more muscled and proportioned, although she could see that his pants hung from his hips more than he'd usually allow and the t-shirt was looser over his chest. He had matured since the College Sophomore she had met in the Colorado Mountains during Christmas break of her Senior year in high school. His face more defined and his voice deeper. He looked so much like his brother that it hurt to see them side by side, the resemblance the thing that had first caught her attention when she met Andy. For that split second in the Stanford bookstore, she had thought it was Troy. Now, she realized that Troy had probably known who she was for awhile and like her, had decided to leave the past in the past. Except now he was dying and that thought made her knees want to give way. He tilted his head when she bit her lip and winked at her. Anyone else would have assumed it to be in his flirtatious nature and part of the teasing Lucille had warned her of downstairs, but Gabriella could read him like a book and the spark that jumped between them ignited something forgotten in her chest.

"Gabriella," he said, the smile growing, "Apparently you've won my little brother's heart."

"So he tells me," she replied with a soft smile that he could read.

"I'm glad you came," he told her quietly and the tension rippled in the room, "Despite everything."

"Of course," she answered, her voice barely audible.

The look that past between them lasted mere seconds but Gabriella learned enough to feel her heart bang against her ribs.

~*~

It was later that night that Gabriella found herself lying in bed, very aware that Troy's bedroom was directly next to the guest room Lucille had prepared for her. Andy's was down the hall, nestled between the bathroom and the linen closet, and seemingly as far away from her physically as he was from Gabriella's thoughts for the moment. Sighing, she rolled over in bed and stared into the empty blackness between her and the wall.

The first time Gabriella had seen Andrew, grinning at her with a teasing smirk as he reached above her head to retrieve the book just beyond her reach, she had felt her breath catch. For the handful of moments before he introduced himself, she had thought he was the confident and athletic boy from Colorado who had taught her to snowboard and stolen her heart for six brief days. She had been mistaken, but that didn't stop the crystal clear memories from flowing through her mind now.

It had been the previous Christmas and she and her mother were in the midst of yet another move to another state. Their house in Denver had been packed up and their things sent to San Francisco, but Gabriella had hated the idea of having Christmas in a strange home, so her mother had rented a cabin in the ski hills of Colorado for the two weeks of Christmas break. The first couple of days, Gabriella had been bored out of her mind. Her mother was busy arranging things like electricity and cable and telephone connections for the new house via the makeshift office in their rooms, and Gabriella was left to wander the resort by herself. She made friends with the local students who ran the quaint coffee shop, read her books and watched as the skiers shrieked and skidded down the looming slopes outside the huge windows of the main lobby where she would curl up with a book and hot chocolate.

She had noticed him the first morning his family arrived. He had leaned against the front counter with his father and offered the young receptionist a wink when she handed over their room keys. He had plucked one from his father's grasp without a second glance and grabbed a snowboard off the pile of luggage, sprinting from the room towards the outdoors. For the rest of the afternoon, Gabriella had watched each snowboarder on the slopes, wondering which one was the gorgeous, cocky, blue-eyed boy from the lobby. The next day, Gabriella's mother watched with surprised as her daughter tore their rooms apart in search of the lift pass that they had been given on their first day and had gone unused. With no explanation, she had left her book lying on the bed and left to find the equipment rental shop and a lesson.

He had been in there that time as well, although he gave her no more than an amused glance as she tried to answer the clerk's questions about sizes and styles and requirements for gear. She had felt like such an amateur as she watched the mystery boy leave. Gathering her gear, she had suffered through the lesson with an instructor before one of the guys from the coffee shop talked her into trying a more advanced hill. She managed to survive a handful of runs before finding herself trying to avoid another snowboarder on the hill and losing her balance, tumbling hard down the hill where she lay on her back for a good thirty seconds while she convinced herself that no one had seen. His laughter, spilling around her as she regained hr bearings enough to see him bending over her, was enough to cause her face to flush with embarrassment. He had introduced himself as Troy Bolton and that had been the end of simply sharing random gazes with each other.

Gabriella had never found herself comfortable around anyone the way she was with Troy. After helping her up off the ground and getting her to the bottom without any more incidents, he had joined her in the coffee shop where they talked all afternoon. She had learned he was in his second year of college at the University of Albuquerque, in the same town he had grown up in, on a basketball scholarship. His dad and younger brother had been spending their time in the gymnasium at the far end of the resort, running plays for the upcoming high school basketball championships that would resume after break. She had explained the house moving situation and expressed her dislike with completing her senior year at yet another school. They had parted for dinner, but he found her again the next morning on the slopes and took to coaching her in the art of snowboarding despite her frustration. For the rest of the trip, excluding Christmas Day, Troy and Gabriella could be found outside with their boards or curled up in a corner of the coffee shop, laughing. He had accompanied her to the resort New Years' Party for the younger crowd of vacationers and together they had joked and danced and been sucked into singing karaoke. He had kissed her on the outside patio, under the stars, as the New Year was rung in by everyone around them. They had parted that night, after breaking into the locked lobby to curl up in front of the fireplace, with plans to see each other the next day but plane schedules had interfered and Gabriella never saw Troy again until one day in Andy's dorm room when a picture on a bulletin board caused her breath to become stuck in her throat.

It was never mentioned to Andy. She never knew how to bring it up. It had been almost two months into their relationship before Gabriella was able to connect him to Troy, and by then they had become so close that she hadn't thought it would matter. She hadn't wanted it to matter. Andy was the one that fate threw into her path for more than a week. Andy was the one who took her on dates and brought her flowers and called her to ask how her classes had gone that day. It was Andy she kissed and Andy who told her she was beautiful. Troy had been a memory until now and Gabriella was guilty of asking herself the sinful question of 'What if'. She didn't want that to matter either.

Having enough of being inside her own head for so long, she pushed back the covers and swung her feet to the floor. The hardwood was cool under her feet as she padded along the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen, moving silently to prevent waking anyone. Filling a glass of water, she leaned her hip into the counter and stared into the black shadows of the dining room where they had eaten dinner earlier that evening. The conversation had flowed naturally as Andy's parents drilled him about classes and his intramural basketball team and his roommate. They discussed the book he was reading and how finals had gone. Gabriella recognized it as an attempt to keep those at the table from lapsing into melancholy silence, but it was impossible not to notice how Troy remained quiet; only joining the conversation when someone directed a comment to him. When Jack and Lucille had run out of questions for Andy, they moved onto Gabriella.

It had been awkward at first, her cheeks flaming red as she answered their questions about the pre-med program and her old high school and her other interests. They asked about her mother and she had explained the situation in Spain. When Andy mentioned her love for singing and how they and their friends would spend Friday nights at one of the local pubs singing karaoke, Gabriella's gaze slipped to Troy's face in time to see the flicker of amusement and the gleam in his eye as he remembered their own debut to the stage. She had suppressed the knowing smile that she wanted to share with him, choosing to turn her attention back to the table and Jack's discussion of the NBA draft choices, but she could feel Troy watching her throughout the rest of dinner.

Gripping the glass between both hands, Gabriella stared into its depths as her mind returned to the present. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her body, but sleep had eluded her for hours after following Andy to bed and kissing him briefly outside the guest room door. Draining the glass, she gently set it in the sink without a noise and crossed the tiled floor to the door and the staircase again, but paused when she saw the flicker of the television's eerie glow and the shadowed figure seated upright, his wrists resting on his knees as his hands dangled between his legs. His gaze was resting steadily on the illuminated screen that was silent and muted.

Letting her eyes shift from his form, she watched the TV, trying to see what held his attention so rigid. The moving pictures were slightly grainy, as if taken by a low grade camera, and the person filming had obviously been distracted since the images wobbled and vibrated as result of an unsteady hand. On the screen, dressed in the black uniform of the A of U Redhawks, number fourteen ducked and dribbled and spun and blocked. The opposite team moved around him as the Redhawks passed the ball back and forth, rarely losing it, rarely giving it up. Referees moved between the teams, whistles between their lips. Gabriella opened her mouth to announce her presence, but stopped as Troy shifted on the couch and leaned further forward, the line between his eyebrows becoming deeper as if he was trying to find something imbedded in the recording. The figure on the screen caught the pass from across court, bouncing it twice on the hardwood as he scanned his options before taking six deliberate steps in the direction of the net, jumping with perfect form to allow the ball to swish through the rim and hit the ground below as the crowd erupted. When Troy hit rewind from his place on the couch, stopping to let it play forward at the beginning of the play, Gabriella decided she was intruding on a personal moment and needed to leave. Her shift in movement, however, caught his eye.

"Ella?" Troy called softly and for a moment, all she could hear was rushing wind and the smell of fresh snow. "What's wrong?"

"Hey," she said, turning as she plastered a weak smile on her lips, "I didn't realize you were up. It's really late."

"I couldn't sleep but there was nothing on TV. I came down looking for a movie and I guess I got distracted." He rubbed at his knuckles with his other hand as he looked back to the television where he had frozen the players in place. "But you never answered my question of why you're still up."

"I slept most of the way here in the car," she mumbled, not meeting his startling blue eyes that were clear even in the dark, "I guess I just wasn't very tired."

"Liar," he chastised softly after watching her face, "Let's try again, El."

The nickname, so long left unused, hit her in the gut as he repeated it for the second time. In Colorado, after their initial introduction, Troy had decided that her name contained too many syllables and had cut it down to Ella. He had been giddy with pleasure when she informed him that no one else called her that, and even after she left Colorado and settled in San Francisco, she had halted anyone else's attempts to use it. Andy had always stuck to Gab or Gabi, never venturing beyond into something that was his own or held just between the two of them. To hear Troy say it to her now, when she felt weighed down by emotion and information and rushing thoughts, was enough to break the wall she had set up for the sake of keeping her own feelings under wraps. Tears pricked her eyes and her throat hurt as she tried to swallow her tears, her hands trembling as they played with the hem of her Stanford sweatshirt. Looking up from the ground, she bit her lip as her eyes overflowed, meeting his gaze.

"Oh, El, please don't cry," he pleaded, motioning her forward until his hands could rest on her hips, "I can't have you crying. People have been crying since yesterday and I don't think I can take much more."

"It's just, I was tense about coming here in the first place to meet your parents, then there was you who Andy doesn't know about, then your parents called and since then everything has just been thrown at me. Andy is shutting me out except to answer questions that have nothing to do with you and it's Christmas and I'm intruding and you're sick...," she trailed off as she furiously tried to wipe the tears away. He pulled her on the couch beside him and let his arm snake around her shoulders.

"I was thinking about Colorado too," he interrupted, "About Christmas Eve when we abandoned our families and climbed the ski after the lifts closed."

"So that we could decorate one of the trees with the lights we took off the one inside the rental shop. You knew I was disappointed that the tree in our room came decorated so you said we could find our own tree," she smiled at the memory, the back of her hand drying her cheeks. Glancing around the room, she noticed that she had missed something earlier on the tour of the house. "Your parents don't have a tree."

"Actually, we do," he admitted, laughter in his voice that made her look up at him, "It's in the backyard. I made Dad stop and get one on our way home from the hospital yesterday and made Mom promise she would wait for you to decorate it. Andy was never one to enjoy it, but I knew you would want to."

"Thank you," she whispered softly. "I can't believe you remembered."

"I remember a lot about that trip," Troy admitted, not able to bring himself to touch her, "A lot about you, too. For weeks when I went back to school, all I could think about was how I left without saying goodbye and we never exchanged numbers or emails. My best friend told me I was the stupidest guy he'd ever met."

Gabriella laughed, rubbing a tired hand over her face. Troy opened his mouth to say something else but instead, he yawned, causing her to frown. In the poor light of the living room, he looked so pale that his skin held no color. His hair, always messy in her memories, exaggerated the slight hollows of his cheeks and there were dark circles under his eyes that she hadn't noticed before. Standing from the couch, she wrapped a delicate hand around his wrist.

"Come on, we're going to bed," she told firmly, hauling him to his feet. She stumbled for a minute, his momentary unsteadiness unexpected. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said through clenched teeth, his fingers digging in her arm harder than he realized, "Just give me a second."

"Dizzy?" And he nodded in answer to her question.

"They gave me meds for it, but they kill my appetite," he explained, releasing her arm as the room settled around him. "I'm good now; you can let go."

"Let's get up the stairs first," she decided, guiding him out the door where his transferred his grip to the railing. When they reached the landing, they paused outside his bedroom door. "Good night," she told him softly as she stepped away. His hand grazed her cheek as she did so and she turned back.

"Night," he told her.

For a moment, she thought he was going to say more since his hand still hovered by her face, but instead he entered his room and closed the door. In the hallway, Gabriella let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

~*~

Christmas music played softly, filtering throughout the downstairs floor of the Bolton home, coming from the stereo system in the living room where the furniture had been rearranged to accommodate the large Christmas tree in the corner across from the fireplace. Gabriella could only guess at how expensive the real tree had been and it warmed her heart that Troy had requested it specifically for her. Boxes sat opened on the floor around an arm chair draped with beads and garland, their contents spilling over the floor in clumps of glitter and gold and ceramic. Jack had strung the lights earlier that day before taking off to run the final practice of the year at East High before classes let out the day. The smell of sugar and cinnamon wafted from the kitchen, evidence of Lucille's efforts to make things homey for Gabriella and normal for everyone else despite Troy being upstairs sleeping off a migraine that had begun just after breakfast that morning. All thoughts of the upcoming months were pushed aside as Gabriella reached for a hook on the fireplace mantle and hung another red and green glass ball on a tree limb. It spun gently, shooting off small refractions of light.

Crouching down, she sorted through the box on the floor to choose another decoration. Multicoloured balls tinkled as they knocked together, cushioned by a variety of hand-made ornaments with crayon scribbles and smeared glue bits. She chuckled to herself as she drew out a gingerbread-man made of hardened dough, his left leg missing and only one remaining googly eye, that had a lopsided 'T' carved into his back. Its scent had long ago dissipated, but the grin on her face appeared immovable as she stood to find a hook. She had one foot balanced on the step stool when footsteps alerted her to someone entering the room.

"You're going to fall," Andy told her evenly, "I told you that you should wait for Dad; someone taller to reach the top."

"I am fine," she told him, rolling her eyes before looking back at him over her shoulder, "And if you were really concerned, you would come over and help me with it."

"I'm not really a tree-decorating kind of guy, Gab," he reminded her, eyeing the room with a look that Gabriella tagged as uncomfortable while rubbing the hair on the back of his head. She resisted commenting on a lot of other things he didn't like doing but decided against it. "If I was, I would understand why you've been at this for almost two hours and there are still two boxes left."

"I like taking my time," she told with a shrug, turning back to straighten out the gingerbread-man so the world wouldn't see his ass for the entire holiday, "Besides, it's not like I have anywhere to go."

"Actually, Mom asked me to run to the grocery store and grab some things for icing her cookies and the eggnog she's taking to the party tonight at the Evans'," Andy told her, "I came to see if you wanted to come with me; take a break."

"Um," she began, pondering the question for a moment before looking back down at him, "I think I'll stay here. There's still a lot to do and I told your mom I would help with dinner."

"Oh, okay," Andy responded, looking slightly unsure of what to do next, "Well, I was also planning to stop by Dylan McKessie'. He got home from New York this morning but," He looked thoughtful for a moment before giving her a half-hearted smile as she frowned, "I guess I could wait and go tomorrow instead."

"No, no," she insisted, climbing down the stool to select another ornament for the tree. Picking a blue ball from the box, she waved Andy towards the door, "Go see your friends. Hang out. Enjoy the day." He gave her an odd look. "Seriously, I am fine here and you don't need your girlfriend following you around while you catch up with your dudes."

"But you'll be here by yourself," he insisted, catching her waist with his hands. "I brought you home for Christmas, I just can't abandon you."

"You're not abandoning me," she sighed patiently, "I am a big girl with a tree to decorate and enchiladas to make. What is the point of you standing around and watching? Go see your friends," she repeated again.

"Alright," he agreed, kissing her forehead as she tipped her head up. "But we'll do something tonight; maybe a movie?"

"Sure thing."

Gabriella turned as he left to get the list of items from the kitchen that his mother was requesting, gently gripping the glass ball in her palm before taking another from the box. Humming the tune of 'White Christmas' under her breath, she lost herself in the peaceful nature of the afternoon. The sun streaming through the windows was soft as it eased through the sheer curtains and the only other movement in the house was Lucille as she sorted cookies on the counter, the cordless phone pressed between her ear and shoulder. She waved to Gabriella as she walked by the entry to the living room, a glass bowl and matching ladle in her hands that she placed by the front door before disappearing into the kitchen again. Time passed as the decorations in the boxes dwindled, finding Gabriella stretching for the top of the tree with the final decoration.

The tiny golden star flickered in the gaudy light of the tree, its five points laden heavy with craft glue and glitter. Gripping the hook in one hand, Gabriella held her breath as she settled the ornament on the branch just below the white gowned angel that topped the tree. Letting the slim thread unwind itself by twirling furiously, she watched as the colors reflected off the ceiling in spinning patterns. Below her she heard the CD finish and the stereo clicked as it switched to the next one. Light strains of 'What Child Is This?' filled the room, Gabriella's voice joining after the first few lines.

"I think the thing I missed the most was your voice." Troy's voice came from the door leading to the hallway, startling her, and she snapped her eyes from the star to the doorway. He seemed tense and his eyes looked heavy, but his smile was bright as he walked into the room to survey her work.

"Did I wake you up?" she asked, stepping down from her perch and reaching for the knob on the stereo's volume, "I didn't realize the music was that loud."

"You didn't wake me up," he told her softly, his hand closing over hers to leave the music alone, "I heard you when I came downstairs."

"Oh," she breathed, feeling her cheeks heat at how unsettled she felt. Her fingers clutched the decorative beads that were used for finishing the tree, tying it in knots and then pulling them apart. "I-, um-, I'm almost finished. Did you want to help?" She felt the smile appear on her face when he grinned at her.

"Sure," he told her, pulling the beads from her grasp and reaching to the upper branches where she would have needed a stool. "Just like last time."

She ducked her head and focused on the tangled length of garland in her hands, giving the illusion that she was trying to find the end. They were quiet, barely talking except in low tones to direct each other or offer opinions on the placement of beads and final touches. When they were finished, Troy closed the curtains partway and dimmed the lights so they could see the full effect. He stood back and watched as the light lit the shadows on Gabriella's face that was tilted to see the angel at the top. Her eyes flicked shut briefly and he watched as she inhaled deeply, calm settling around her like a blanket. His fingers itched to run his fingers along the silkiness of her throat, but he thrust them into his pockets when she looked over with a sly grin.

"Come on," she told him, her hand reaching out to wrap around his hand and pull him closer, "This isn't the right way."

"What?" he exclaimed as she tugged him towards the tree, letting go to lie down and beckon him to the spot beside her. "El?"

"Just try it," she insisted, a giggle rising to choke her as she looked up through the branches. "Please?"

Sighing in resignation, he got down beside her, giving her a sceptical look before collapsing his elbows and laying his head next to hers. The lights twinkled above their heads, peeking through the branches and glinting off the gilt paint of the ornaments. Looking over, Gabriella saw the drops of light reflected in Troy's eyes. Turning back, she licked her lips as the sound of motorized ornaments buzzed distractedly above their heads.

"I missed your voice too," she told him gently, thinking back to his earlier comment, "And the way you never cared what people thought that night we did karaoke for New Years Eve. I missed your voice but it's not what I missed the most."

"No?" he asked quietly, his voice hitching as both of them thought of Colorado.

"No," she repeated, "It was your eyes. There's something about them that made me forget that we were strangers and just enjoy the moment. When you look at me still, I have this way of forgetting anything beyond the second or the minute. There were so many times when I wished I could see them again."

"Ella," he laughed softly, "Lots of people have blue eyes. Even Andy; people say that all the time."

"He doesn't though," she told him with her voice barely above a whisper. "They're blue, but they're not the same."

When she got up to go start dinner with his mother, he stayed under the tree and watched the tiny rotating toy train above his head.

~*~

Jack and Lucille Bolton had gone to attend Vance and Dirby Evans' annual Christmas Party for all U of A alumni that evening. Although Troy had been invited, Gabriella knew he had turned it down to avoid the pitying looks and unforgiving questions of the other guests. Seated on the sofa, leaning casually into Andy's side as they watched a movie, Gabriella half-heartedly popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth. She felt boxed in and uncomfortable, wishing she was anywhere but cooped up in the living room. Shifting for the hundredth time, she gritted her teeth when she felt Andy shift beneath her, his arm that was lodged in under her ribcage adding to her awkward pose. Sitting up, his arm slipped away as he sighed, watching her reach under his feet and yank out the pillow that had been tossed aside earlier. Beating it with her hand so that it rested between Andy's chest and the couch, Gabriella lay down again, wriggling and squirming to find a new position.

"I'm sorry," she insisted, "But I can't get comfortable."

He didn't say anything but she felt his annoyance as he retracted the arm that had been around her shoulders and settled it on the back of the couch instead. She could hear noises in the kitchen but resisted the urge to go see what Troy was up to. He had understood the need for Andy and Gabriella to spend time together and had excused himself from their offer of joining them. Instead he had retreated to his room. Gabriella had felt guilty, although why she couldn't figure out for herself, for knowing that he was alone upstairs. Sighing again, she sat up to readjust the pillow, trying to ignore the look Andy shot her when she accidently elbowed him in the stomach. Deciding that nothing would work as long as her body refused to relax, Gabriella took the empty bowl of popcorn from where it was wedged between her and her boyfriend, standing to let the blanket fall from around her.

"Where are you going now?" Andy asked, not hiding his exasperation.

"I need a drink," she told him, "Do you want me to bring back more popcorn?"

"No," he snapped, "But if you could get rid of the ants in your pants, that would be appreciated."

"Excuse me?" she drew out the words, her temper shortened immensely.

"Look, Gab, I'm sorry, but I've been on edge for a week and tonight was supposed to be about relaxing and spending time together and you just seem to be all over the place with your mind somewhere else. What's the deal?" His eyes pleaded with her but she refused to have the much needed discussion while Troy was within earshot.

"You're not the only one handling a lot, Andrew," she told him in a low voice. "I'll be back; don't bother pausing the movie."

Andy muttered something under his breath as she swept out of the room to the kitchen where she stopped in the doorway, surprised. Troy looked concerned as he leaned his elbows on the counter and sipped from a glass of milk in his hand. A prescription bottle of pills sat off to the side. He watched as she gave him a quick glance and then walked to the dishwasher to place the bowl inside before reaching down a glass and contemplating what she wanted. He waited for her to meet his gaze, but when it didn't come, he spoke up.

"You okay?" he asked quietly. She could feel his eyes piercing through her shoulder blades as she nodded her head, not trusting her voice. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she replied, "I'm good. He's just tense and stressed. It's not his fault; he doesn't know the other side. My side." She sighed and tipped her head back, rolling her neck. "Maybe I should have gone with him to Dylan's."

"Or maybe he should have stayed and decorated the tree," Troy suggested, setting the glass down and watching the warring features on her face as she processed his comment.

"I knew he wouldn't," Gabriella said. "We're both tired and cranky and I've always hated that movie."

"Not a Megan Fox fan?" he asked with a chuckle as she rolled her eyes at the typical male response.

"I should go back," she sighed, rubbing a hand across her face.

"Let me go," Troy said, dropping his glass in the sink and walking towards the living room.

"What?" she asked, surprised and confused.

"Let me talk to him. I know it's going to ruin your date, but I think it's time Andy and I talk. We've both been avoiding it."

She didn't know what to say as he left the room. Standing in the kitchen, staring into the blackness of the backyard through the window, she listened for the hum of voices that began to rise in the room down the hall. Taking a few steps outside the kitchen, Gabriella leaned against the wall of the hallway and listened as the two brothers' voices drifted towards her.

"Where's Gabi?" Andy said, looking up as Troy entered the room with his hands in his pockets.

"In the kitchen," Troy answered evenly, "Trying to get her temper under wraps before coming back in here to say something she will regret later."

"Dude, please don't get involved. It was just a disagreement," Andy responded, his voice indicating he had no intention of continuing to discuss it with Troy. Gabriella's fist clenched at the response that was typically Andy. Everything was always so even with him. No argument was ever bigger than 'a disagreement'; not even the time he had gotten drunk after an exhibition game and showed up at her dorm room at 3am in the morning, having snuck by the door clerk and hacked the security access with Gabriella's PIN number. The next day when their friends commented on Gabriella's stormy silence, Andy had called it a 'conflict of interests'.

"Andy, shutting her out is not going to make you a stronger person. It's not going to make things easier. It is not going to make it go away." Gabriella could almost hear Andy's head snap up, and she hugged her arms to herself as she listened from outside in the hallway. Her breath stilled in her chest as she listened for the slightest movement that would indicate being caught.

"You don't know us," Andy spat out, "You don't know what we're like."

"No," Troy agreed, "I don't. But I know you and you're doing the same stupid shit you did when Dad told you we had to put Monty down. You loved that dog like your best friend and this is exactly how you acted. You were polite but you were behind a wall. It didn't work then and it won't work now."

"How can you sit there and say that?" Andy asked, incredulous, "It's not a dog this time, it's you."

"Doesn't change the outcome, does it?" Troy asked seriously. "I am dying, Andy. Probably not this week or this month, but things after that get fuzzy on the prediction scale. The thing in my head is not going away. The doctors are not going to miraculously find a cure. This is it, Bud, and you need to face it before your girlfriend smacks you across the face for being an ass to her."

In the hall, Gabriella slid down the wall, her hands sliding up to grip her hair as her elbows rested on her knees. She didn't cry, but Troy's words were like a blow to her stomach as the oxygen rushed from her body her hands shook. She had thought she was being honest and realistic with herself about the situation, but his blunt prediction proved her to be wrong. She had avoided thinking further than the next couple of weeks. Beyond Christmas, beyond the next semester of school, Troy had continued to exist in perfect resemblance of how he did now. The idea of being in this house a year from now, minus him, caused pain to radiate through her core until her hand slipped over her mouth to keep from being heard.

"I don't know how to talk to her," he whispered, his voice thick and Troy watched him swallow multiple times. "There's something about her lately that isn't my Gabi. She's in her own world most of the time and I know she'd listen if I tried, but sometimes I feel like there's something going with her that makes it harder to tell her, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Troy replied. Gabriella wondered if he felt as guilty as she did for keeping that secret from Andy. "But she's trying. She got tossed into the middle of this family and now everything that affects us, affects her. She's not detached from us, Andy. Remember that. She has feelings too, and she shouldn't have to hide them because she thinks yours are more important."

"Lately," Andy admitted, "Everything just seems so much bigger than it used to. Bigger than me; bigger than me and Gabi. It's like everything I've known is being crushed to pieces and I'm supposed to know why, but I don't."

"Some things, we're not supposed to understand," Troy explained, but Gabriella heard the effort it took to keep his own emotions from overwhelming Andy. There was a pause, and Gabriella strained to hear. She inhaled abruptly at the next question. "Andy, do you love her?"

"I think so," he answered with hesitation. "Why?"

"Because nothing can ever be bigger than love. Remember that," Troy told him. Tears dripped down Gabriella's face as she listened, wanting to leave and not hear the rest of the conversation but being unable to rip herself away.

"You're asking me to remember a lot," Andy joked weakly and Troy's voice was grim when he answered.

"I don't think it's a lot to ask," he replied, before leaving the living room.

Gabriella waited in the doorway to the kitchen as Troy ascended the steps without looking her way. A few minutes later, she heard another set of footsteps on the stairs. Leaving the dim light of the kitchen behind, she entered the living room to find it empty. Turning off the TV, she stood in the dark room that was only illuminated by the Christmas tree and tried to sort through her emotions. Andy had never told her he loved her, but hearing his confession to Troy caused her to ask herself the same question. And where Andy had an answer, Gabriella only had confusion and unsurely. Raking her fingers through her hair, she gave the Christmas tree one last look before flicking the switch and plunging the room into black.


	4. PART IV

_**AN:**__ I think the last two chapters were the hardest to write, given how important it was to get everything perfect and keep the confusion to a minimum. This is a thanks to anyone who helped along the way. For the girls at ff who have been wondering where the hell that tiny little preview went, it's in here. Finally. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

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~*~

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**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART FOUR**

"_Baby, maybe all we need is just to be.__"_

_-Breathe, Faith Hill_

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Troy and Lucille were already in the kitchen when Gabriella sleepily entered the next morning. She had swapped her sleep shorts for Stanford sweats but had been too preoccupied to sort through her suitcase for a more appropriate shirt. Her tiny red tank top rode up her stomach as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head and a light blush tinged her cheeks when she met Troy's eyes while he looked over the rim of his juice glass in amusement. Shivers raced down her back. Lucille offered her a quiet smile as she measured grinds into the coffee machine, nodding her head towards the table that held a plate of pancakes and bacon along with an assortment of cereal.

"Help yourself, dear," she told Gabriella, leaving the coffee maker to deal with the dishes in the sink. "Coffee will be ready in a few minutes, unless you want tea."

"Actually, juice is fine for me," Gabriella answered quietly, accepting a glass from the other woman and shakily took the box of juice that Troy held out to her. "But thank you."

Lucille merely nodded, leaning over the sink to scrub the dishes while Gabriella eyed the pile of pancakes that Troy was shoving under her nose. Delicately sipping her juice, so deep in thought she missed the look that crossed Troy's face as he watched her, she contemplated how to deal with the situation from the night before. It was private, she knew that, but it also involved her and Troy had to have known she would follow him into the hallway. What bothered her most was neither one of them had returned to her after their talk. They had left her in the kitchen to deal with the consequences of what had been voiced on her own. Someone calling her brought her back to the present, and she looked up at Troy before pushing the food away from her.

"You're not hungry?" he asked, his eyebrows drawn together in surprised confusion. She sighed and tugged at the elastic in her hair before dropping her hand to the counter to pick up a fork and twirl it between her fingers. Glancing behind her, she saw that Lucille had left the kitchen and she looked back to meet Troy's gaze. "She went to find my dad. She's going Christmas shopping or something." One shoulder rose and fell before he spoke again. "Is this about what I said to Andy last night?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she scoffed, "I was in the kitchen."

"Sure you were," Troy said, tilting his head knowingly and crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to meet his gaze. "Come on, Ella. Is it?"

"No," she answered, groaning as she let the fork go and dropped her head to her hands, "Yes." He chuckled quietly. "It's about what it made me think about."

"El, I didn't mean to get between the two of you," Troy started, but pounding on the stairs drew their attention to the doorway of the kitchen where Andy was sauntering through. Gabriella noted that he was already dressed, in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, as he gently pecked her cheek and swiped the carton of juice from the table and went to find his own glass. Troy didn't continue his sentence, and Gabriella noted how he focused his attention on the back of the still untouched cereal box.

"Morning, Bro," Andy chirped, his voice lightly as he leaned against the countertop and watched his brother and his girlfriend. "You going to help Dad and I put up the lights this morning?" he asked cheerfully, draining his glass and striding across the floor to retrieve a piece of bacon from Gabriella's untouched plate and pop it in his mouth. "Apparently he wants to use even more lights than last year."

Gabriella had never seen the brothers react to each other after a fight or disagreement, so at first she thought that perhaps Andy and Troy were the type of siblings to fight and then take a break before resuming the same atmosphere and interactions that had been in place before the disagreement. Looking quickly at Troy however, seeing the tight lines around his mouth and the way his jaw ground his teeth together, told her that that wasn't the case and Andy was forcing the happy attitude. She wondered if he had guessed that she had listened in on their conversation before dismissing it. It would explain his current mood if he was trying to make everything normal for her sake. Thinking about Troy's words about how she was just as involved now as the rest of them, Gabriella decided to destroy the sunny morning and plunge right in.

"You didn't tell me you were going to bed last night," she said in a voice that held a hint of sarcasm, "The movie wasn't even over."

"You hate that movie anyway," Andy replied in the same tone after a moment, "Plus I wasn't in the mood to continue."

"I'll remember that the next time you drag me to a jazz club or that snooty restaurant with the horrible desserts just because you're in the mood for it. Maybe I'll just walk out on our date when I've had enough," she shot back, splaying her fingers evenly along the edge of the table. "I wasn't aware I had pissed you off so much as to abandon me."

"I was tired," he sighed, propping his head up on one hand.

"No, Troy said things you weren't ready to hear," she answered, briefly noting that Troy had left the room to give them privacy. Her eyes softened as she looked at him and the way his jaw tightened in such a familiar way. "Andy, why won't you talk to me? The whole way here, you let me know what you were thinking and suddenly it's like you're shutting me out and I don't understand why. What's different?"

"Everything, Gab. Everything is different and everyone is pretending it's not," he answered her quietly, his eyes downcast and his shoulders hunched in. "I want to scream and yell and break anything within reach and yet Troy is so calm and even and rational. Why is no one as mad as me? Why does no one seem to see how unfair this whole thing is?"

"Everyone has their own way of dealing with things," Gabriella said quietly, her voice barely high enough to be heard. "And maybe Troy is holding it together for the benefit of your family."

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around it," he admitted, his eyes meeting hers, "I just need time."

She nodded, staring into the depths of her empty glass. The room pulsed with the uncomfortable silence as both tried to settle their inner feelings and questions, the only sound being the buzzing of the dryer in the basement where Lucille was sorting laundry before heading out to finish the Christmas shopping with only a handful of days left before the holiday. Gabriella assumed Troy had been taking tips off of her and waiting outside the room for the conversation to become less personal, because in the midst of the silence he re-entered the room while grabbing a jacket off the back of a chair, causing Andy to raise an eyebrow in question.

"You're heading out?" he asked, watching as Troy checked his back pocket for his wallet and jammed the zipper on his coat higher. "With Mom?"

"Chad," Troy replied, slightly distracted as he sorted through the bowl on the table for a set of house keys. Gabriella noticed how he avoided her gaze, glancing at his brother instead. "We're going to finish up some shopping and maybe head to Jason's later to hang out."

"Oh," Andy answered, sounding disappointed, "Have fun."

Troy nodded to his brother before heading to the door and then smiled back at Gabriella when Andy's eyes were focused elsewhere. The bells on the festive wreath jingled against the door as it shut behind him. Andy left the kitchen without a word and Gabriella assumed it was to find his father and begin the job of stringing lights around the house and lawn. Pushing aside the knowing sense of anxiety in her belly, Gabriella pushed herself up from the table and tidied the kitchen before finding Lucille in the upstairs hall closet and asking for directions to the nearest grocery store. Obtaining Andy's keys, she left in the SUV, finding herself fifteen minutes later with a shopping basket laden with ingredients. She had always loved the scent of gingerbread cookies and baking seemed like a good idea to distract her from her thoughts.

~*~

Mrs. Bolton had left by the time Gabriella spun the SUV into the driveway later that morning. Pulling up behind the mini-van, she pulled her bags from the back seat and slammed the door with her hip before entering the open garage door and using the inner door that led to the kitchen. She passed Andy and his father along the way, up to their elbows in boxes of Christmas lights and colourful bulbs, as she set her things on the kitchen and walked back out to see if they needed anything. They denied her, but she continued to linger as she inspected the space that smelled like motor oil.

A shelf across from her contained boxes labelled for their contents, stacked three high and taking up the whole wall. Below them, in a large container on the ground, sports equipment was tossed haphazardly inside it with a basketball resting on the top. A pair of snowboards were strapped to the wall to her right, and the butterflies in her stomach began to stir before she yanked her eyes to the monstrosity sitting idle before her. It was a battered old pick-up truck that had probably seen better days before the Second World War, but she was not an expert in mechanics. Its white pain was faded in spots and rusted off in others. Boxes in the flatbed were still taped and labelled for the athletes' dorms at U of A.

"It's Troy's," Jack told her with a gleam in his eye. "It was my father's and I never had the patience for the up keep it required to run. Troy made it his pet project when he was learning how to drive. It breaks down every once and awhile and he slaves away to get it back in shape."

Gabriella nodded as she stepped away. She had guessed the vehicle's owner prior to being told; it was so typically Troy. Andy would be the type for something sturdy and reliable, just like the SUV she had driven that morning. The truck on the other hand, as much as she thought it to be hideous was an adventure and a project like Jack had informed her of, and she could see the looks of concentration and pleasure that would simultaneously grace Troy's face as he held a screw driver over the engine. Her heart to hurt to acknowledge that his entire dorm room was most likely packed into those boxes and that he would not be returning after the holidays. She inhaled deeply knowing that his parents had probably taken away the keys.

Turning her attention to the front porch of the house where Jack and Andy had hauled a few strands of lights, Gabriella watched for a few moments as Andy stood on the ladder and attached the bulbs to the plastic hooks linked to the guttering of the roof. On the ground, Jack unscrewed and replaced burned out of broken bulbs until entire strings shone red and green as they coiled on the ground. Seeing that they didn't need any help and the conversation had drifted towards basketball and the happenings at East High, she made her way back inside to begin her afternoon project.

The time trickled by, monitored by her constant glances at the digital clock on the microwave. Finding a temporary calm in the stillness of the kitchen and the meticulousness of exact measurements and preparation, Gabriella hummed Christmas carols under her breath and inhaled the scent of cinnamon and sugar. Grinning as she pulled on oven mitts and peeked inside the oven, she lowered the door all the way and retrieved her second batch of gingerbread men. Leaving it on top of the stove to cool, she shoved a third batch inside and pushed the oven door back into place. Dusting off her hands on the apron she had found in the cabinet drawers, Gabriella began to mix up enough icing sugar to decorate all her gingerbread and the shortbreads that were going to be made later on. She had also picked up the ingredients for angel food cake as well, but that was only in the case of desperation and she had yet to find another way to make herself busy.

She was just about to add gumdrops for buttons to her first gingerbread man when a popping sound came from the open door to the garage. Turning her head, she saw that the lights in there had also snapped off and could hear someone cursing as they entered through the driveway. Wiping red icing on her apron and putting down the bowl of candy, she went to the door to see Andy holding a flashlight and Jack exploring the inside of the electrical panel.

"Got a little over zealous with the festive attitude?" she asked brightly, grinning at the bemused looks on both men's faces. Andy rolled his eyes as Jack flicked a switch a couple of times and sighed.

"Dad forgot what happened last year when we plugged those ugly reindeer into that outlet," Andy explained, lowering the flashlight as Jack closed the box and surveyed them both with a guilty expression. "We blew the fuse again, didn't we?"

"Looks like," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that seemed to be genetically wired into all Bolton men. "We'll have to head to Oscar's off the interstate; it's the only hardware store opened on a Saturday that I know will have the right parts. You want to come for the drive, Son?" he asked, eyeing Andy.

After assuring him that she was fine by herself and that he would only be a nuisance begging for cookies before they were ready, Gabriella shoved Andy towards his SUV and tossed him the keys she still had in her pocket. Jack pulled down the garage door before they left and Gabriella locked the linking door to the kitchen so that she wouldn't forget later, returning to her cookies that were almost ready to come out of the oven. Resuming her task, she lost herself in her thoughts as she baked and iced hours into the afternoon.

~*~

The clock told her it was nearing three o'clock and Lucille had just called to say she had a few more stops to make before grabbing a pizza on her way home. She had urged Gabriella to leave dinner alone and not worry about it; promising to call Jack and Andy to find out how long they would be. Andy had called about thirty minutes after leaving the house for the hardware story to tell Gabriella that Oscar's didn't have the part but had directed them to another store about forty-five minutes further down the highway. Jack had considered waiting until Monday to find a dealer in the city but considering that it was the weekend and all of the lights and the door were affected in the garage plus the laundry room, he and Andy had decided to make the trip. After finishing up her cookies and forgoing the cake until another time, Gabriella had climbed the stairs to her room and hauled out all of her Christmas gifts and the wrapping paper, sinking down to her knees in order to sort through them all. Her only break had been Lucille's phone call minutes earlier.

Placing a finger on the seam of the paper that covered a set of books for Lucille, she tore off a piece of tape and sealed the ends of the festive wrapping together. She was adding a bow when the sound of the doorbell ringing startled her. Halfway down the stairs, the sound of keys in the lock could be heard from the other side of the front door and the knob was turned before the door was pushed open. Gabriella was at the bottom of the stairs to receive a grim smile from the dark-skinned, curly haired guy whose arm seemed to be the only thing keeping Troy upright.

Despite the hand that pressed against the door frame, Troy leaned heavily into his friend as he stumbled to get his feet over the threshold. His hair was dishevelled as if he'd spent endless amounts of time pushing it away from his forehead that was creased with pain. He grimaced as the light in the entrance way struck him in the face and he kept his eyes squeezed shut even when Gabriella hit the switch beside her hand by the stairs. She saw the shiver that ran through him and the way his shirt clung to him.

"Oh, God," she exclaimed, rushing forward to hold the door open as he steadied Troy for a moment before leading him towards the couch in the living room. She roughly shoved her hair from her face as she shut the door and followed them. "What happened?"

"It's just a headache, Ella," Troy mumbled, wincing as his friend eased him to the couch and he laid his head back against the cushion while his eyes remained shut. "I just let it get out of control."

"He popped a pill a couple hours into shopping," his friend admitted to Gabriella who ran a hand over her forehead, "But he seemed fine after and insisted on continuing. We were at a friend's house when it came back with a vengeance and I thought he'd be better back here."

"Thanks," Gabriella breathed, sinking down to the arm of the chair and letting her hand rest on Troy's forehead, sliding it down to rest on his cheek as he turned his face towards her in acceptance. His eyes squeezed tighter and white lines appeared along his nose and mouth. "Can you stay with him for a minute?"

Dashing upstairs, she located the bottle of pills left on the counter in the main bathroom. Lucille had discreetly mentioned their use to Gabriella a few mornings ago in case she should need to know. This seemed like a reasonable time. Spilling two into her hand, she returned to the living room with a glass of water in her hand. Transferring the pills to Troy's hand, she handed him the water and waited for him to swallow before taking the cup back. Placing a pillow along the armrest, she guided his head so that he was lying down. When she was certain he was as comfortable as was possible, she followed his friend to the kitchen where he took an offered cookie before sitting.

"Thank you for bringing him home," she told him awkwardly, her hands clenching along the back of a chair. When she caught the question in his eyes, she offered a weak smile. "Gabriella Montez. I'm Andy's girlfriend."

"Chad Danforth," he answered, taking her offered hand with a mischievous smile, "You're the girl from the ski resort last year."

"You know about that?" she asked, shocked and slightly unsettled. Swallowing, she continued, "You do know that Andy doesn't-"

"Know?" Chad finished for her when she trailed off, "Yeah, I know. I've known for awhile. Troy needed to vent to someone and I seemed like the obvious choice." There was a contemplative pause. "He's really happy that you're here, you know. Even if you're with Andy."

"I-," she couldn't continue, not with her emotions straining to break free in the presence of the stranger. She hated that it looked like she was in the middle of the two brothers and perhaps it was Chad's observation that weighed so heavily on her soul as she looked towards the room that held Troy. "I can't do this right now."

"I didn't mean to upset you," Chad rushed, standing and clasping his car keys in unsteady hands. "Just take care of him for me until Mrs. B gets home. Tell him the guys will be around tomorrow if it's a good day."

Gabriella nodded and led him to the front door, watching as he walked slowly down the path before she shut the door and turned to press her back against the cool metal. Taking several deep breaths, she calmed her nerves and entered the living room, taking a blanket off the back of the rocking chair as she passed. Troy had shifted so his head was no longer on the pillow but the much harder armrest. Crouching down so she was level with his face, Gabriella brushed the hair from his face while calling him softly.

"I turned off the lights and closed the curtains," she told him softly, draping the blanket over him. "Your dad and Andy should be back soon and they can help you upstairs to your room."

"This is fine," he mumbled to her, his eyes fluttering open for a minute before closing again. "You don't have to stay."

"Nonsense," she scolded gently, rubbing circles on the back of his hand while ignoring the thoughts in her head that told her it was wrong. She was too close. She was crossing the barrier they had agreed to keep in place. She was falling. "Let me grab a phone in case someone calls and I'll be right back."

He nodded briefly and she stood, leaving to retrieve the phone from the kitchen along with a plate of cookies for herself and him if he wanted one later. She grabbed the remote for the television and muted it as soon as she turned it on, clicking through the channels while standing until she found a movie to her satisfaction. Turning, she took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, by Troy's feet but he had other ideas.

"Come up to this end," he told her softly, his voice thick and slightly slurred, "I can move."

"Troy, I'm not sure if we should-," he cut her off though before she finished.

"I just want to know someone is there," he whispered, opening his eyes long enough to change her mind. "Please?"

A minutes of adjustments later, Gabriella found herself wedged in beside the armrest with her feet tucked beneath her and Troy's head resting in her lap. The blanket had been resettled and his breathing seemed to be less rigid as her fingers gently combed through his hair as she watched the movie in silence. The Christmas tree winked and twinkled in the corner, its light colliding with the television's glow.

"Thank you," Troy whispered out of the quiet, surprising Gabriella.

"For what?" she asked gently, her fingers never pausing.

"For being here," he answered. "It means more than you could ever know."

"Try me." The traitorous words spilled from her lips and she felt his heartbeat speed up as his chest rose and fell against her legs.

"I used to think that we were just a spark in time; a few days of finding ourselves in each other so that when we left to go home, we would take something with us." His piercing blue eyes, dimmed by pain for the moment, looked up at her before looking away and closing again. "God gave me what I wanted when I asked if I would see you again. I guess I didn't think that he would put a time limit on it."

As he drifted off to sleep without her answer, Gabriella let the tears slide down her cheeks until one landed with perfect symmetry on the outer corner of his eye as he lay in her lap. How he managed to see things, see them, so clearly, Gabriella would never understand when her own conclusions were left unanswered or decided upon. She had thought the same thing; that they were simply a bright moment in their lives to recall later. It was the reason she had never mentioned her past with Troy to Andy, but Troy's words had sliced through her heart to her very soul and she had realized one thing. A spark in time or not, she loved Troy for what he did to her then, and now.

~*~

The door clicking open was what woke Gabriella a little while later. Her neck kinked from awkwardly leaning against the back of the couch cushion, and her feet tingling with loss of proper blood flow, she sat up to welcome whoever had returned home. Wiping the sleep from her eyes as she regained her bearings, she blinked twice and looked across the room to see the look of confusion and shock on Andrew's face. Gasping, her final thoughts before drifting off to sleep sitting in the pit of her stomach, she struggled to unravel herself from around Troy without waking him.

Stumbling towards the door as the blood rushed back to her legs and feet, Gabriella reached the hallway in time to catch the look that crossed Andy's face as he looked between his unnaturally still brother, asleep on the couch just beyond the door, and her pale face as she stood before him. Her usually pink cheeks were drained of color and her hair had been spun into elf knots from nervous tugs on her curls. Her hands toyed with the necklace around her throat as she dropped her gaze to the floor. She could hear the pounding of her heart as he spoke and his voice came out harsher than she'd ever heard it.

"Gabriella, look at me," he demanded, a plea detected just beneath the anger.

"Please, don't yell," she whispered, her gaze rising from the floor to look at the sleeping form of the older Bolton brother before looking up into her boyfriend's face. "He just fell asleep."

"I don't care," he hissed back, but she noticed with slight relief that he dropped his voice lower to remain unheard beyond the hallway. "I want to know why I came home to find you lying on the couch with huim."

"We were just talking," she told him softly, closing her eyes to gather her control. She wanted to be back on the couch with his solid arms around her. She wanted to be close enough to feel him breathe because ever since learning the news, she was terrified to lose him before she was ready. "He wanted to watch a movie."

"And you couldn't just sit in another chair?" Blue eyes flashed and the tiny pulse spot under his jaw throbbed as he swallowed. "Do you know what it looked like?"

"He is afraid to go to sleep," she told him, her tone chastising and she watched as the word registered in his eyes and guilt rocked him. "We were talking and then put the movie on and I guess we both just conked out. I am sorry, but that's all it was."

"I'm overreacting, I know that," Andy sighed as his gaze lingered around the living room, "But you two just seem so comfortable that sometimes I wonder if I am missing something."

"Andy, there's something you should know," she began, biting her lip and his eyes widened at how thick her voice had become. "I should have told you sooner but we were in such a good place when I realized and I really didn't think it mattered. I swear-"

"What is it, Gabi?" he managed to choke out.

"We've met before," she rushed out, the words mixing so that he looked confused for a moment.

"You and me?"

"No, me and Troy," she whispered, eyes cast towards the other room.

"I don't understand," he answered, backing away a step.

"In Colorado, last Christmas. You were in the gym playing basketball with your dad and he was on the ski slopes. I fell and he helped me back up." The tears were streaming down her face now. "I didn't realize who you were until weeks into us dating and you came back from a visit and brought pictures."

"And you didn't say anything?" he bit out. "You were just going to let this go until when? He came to visit? Summer vacation? Never?"

"I was just waiting for the right time. I didn't even know if he would remember me," she insisted.

"But he did," he guessed, closing his eyes when she nodded her head. "So what made you decide to tell me this now? What's changed that made this the perfect moment?"

"You shouldn't have to ask what's changed," she replied, eyes flashing at his brutal words. "He doesn't have time for us to find a perfect moment to tell you."

Not having an answer, she watched as he brushed past her and up the stairs. Hearing a door slam, she leaned against the door jam and watched as the remaining boy on the couch continued to breathe with a smile on his face.


	5. PART V

_**AN:**__ This is a thanks to everyone helping along the way with reviews and begging and betaing. This is also a note to say thank you to mature and appreciatively deep reviews that have helped so much. Hopefully the next update will come faster than this one did. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

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~*~

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**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART FIVE**

"_Each day is a gift and not a given right."_

_-If Today Was Your Last Day, Nickelback_

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Two days before Christmas Eve, and three days since disclosing her past with Troy to Andy, Gabriella found herself once again locked in her bedroom with gift wrap by the heaps surrounding her. On the bed, meticulously stacked by weight and size, were several finished gifts for the Bolton family. Most of them had been bought back in California and brought along unwrapped to Albuquerque. She had selected books, music and glass ornaments with a handful of hints from Andy, for his parents. Each had been wrapped, bowed and tagged over the previous days in the house. Andy's gift had been purchased months ago and concealed at the bottom of her suitcase until that morning when she had finally gotten the chance to finish it off with a big green bow and address it to him in her curling script. Holding it in her hands, she felt the weight of the season lying heavily on her shoulders.

Troy hadn't agreed nor disagreed with her decision to spill their deepest secret to Andy. He had simply nodded at her and when she received no other acknowledgement she had choked back a sob before retreating from the room and barricading herself in her room for the evening. The room had darkened to inky blackness before she peeled herself off the floor and mechanically changed into her pyjamas, sliding between the sheets. She hadn't known what to expect, but her heart clenched at the realization that no one had come to check on her. Not Lucille or Jack or Troy, and certainly not Andy. Only once during the night after falling into a restless sleep, did she wake to the sound of a door slamming and muffled voices across the hall. Letting her eyes slide shut again, she returned to sleep as angry footsteps passed her door.

The silence in the house had continued over the last three days, despite the fake smiles and hidden questions in everyone's eyes. Lucille would praise Gabriella's baking skills and then glare at one of her sons to add a compliment of their own to her attempts to ease the torture. Gabriella would brush off the half hearted attempts with a weak smile and a quiet thank you. Jack would make an effort to tell Andy to take a break from the last minute decorating or one-on-one basketball games on the outdoor asphalted court. Andy would say he didn't need one and Gabriella would share pained looks with Troy as they tried to figure out who had disappointed him the most.

She had taken to leaving the house and spending hours at the mall under the guise of Christmas shopping or the need for Scotch tape, returning in time for supper which could then be followed up with hiding in her room. Gabriella was sick of feeling guilty and anxious; tired of being ignored and avoided. Yes, she knew Andy was hurt by their silence, but did it change anything? It shouldn't have and yet she knew it had. Something in the way Andy looked at her, as if he wanted to say so much and didn't have the courage or the words to do it, told her that it had changed everything.

So she spent the afternoon on the rug in front of the bed, folding Christmas paper in perfect creases and ensuring the tape ran in parallel lines to the plaid design of the paper. She selectively chose only the most unmashed bows and made sure that the names on the tags were all the same size. It was obsessive, but it was the only way she could stay upstairs without running out of excuses. Adding the last of Andy's gifts to the pile to be placed under the tree on Christmas Eve, Gabriella pulled the last of her presents into her lap and let her fingers trace a pattern on the box.

Troy's gift had been the hardest to choose. One of the boxes on the bed contained a sweater she had bought on impulse one afternoon, but the box in her lap contained the one gift that could mean everything. She had nearly pulled her hair out the afternoon she set out to find him something, determined to make it personal and meaningful without throwing his situation in his face. At the time, she hadn't known that Andy would learn of their past, but now it just added to the butterflies in her gut as she carefully taped the edges of the box. A soft knock on the door drew Gabriella from her thoughts and Lucille's voice filtered in from the other side, asking permission to open the door. Granting it, Gabriella self consciously made to cover up her partially exposed gift. She saw Lucille's gaze settle on it for a moment before looking at Gabriella.

"Honey," she began, "You've been up here for hours; I thought I'd come see if you wanted a snack or something to drink."

"Thank you, but I'm okay," Gabriella answered, her eyes downcast and her voice hoarse.

Lucille seemed to hesitate at the door for a moment before stepping inside and shutting the door. Gabriella's eyes widened as the other woman crossed the floor and gently moved aside the pile of gifts to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. She seemed to lose herself in thought for a moment, letting her eyes soften as they skimmed the presents and the glittering packaging. She opened her mouth to speak, closing it and swallowing once before trying again.

"You're not a mother, so this may seem intrusive," the older woman said softly, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from the bedspread, "But as a mother, it is difficult to know what to do in this kind of situation."

Gabriella's brow wrinkled and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. There were lines on Lucille's face that Gabriella knew were new without asking. Her eyes, always soft, looked tired and she took her time to make sure every word counted; meant something and was remembered. She felt the need to comfort the other woman, yet, Gabriella was afraid to speak first.

"Did Troy ever tell you that we weren't supposed to go to Colorado last year?" she asked, breaking the silence after several moments. When Gabriella looked surprised, Lucille smiled softly. "It's true. Jack's Christmas gift to me and the house was new hard wood floors in the dining room. The installation company was supposed to be finished by the week before Christmas and instead they were told us it would be another week, maybe more. My parents were in Florida, and Jack's passed away years ago, so we decided to spend the holidays away. Andy wanted Florida and Troy wanted Colorado. Obviously, you know who won the argument. Jack and I used to wonder where he disappeared to all the time; I knew the slopes wouldn't care if his hair was gelled."

"It wasn't meant to be a secret," Gabriella whispered, playing with the bow in her hands.

"I know that," Lucille told her, reaching for the bow that Gabriella was mutilating, "But right now, Andy feels like he's losing both of you. Troy is his older brother, he's supposed to be invincible to all of us, and you-," she paused for a moment before continuing, "Apparently he's in love with you, and yet there's so much he doesn't know. I saw it that first night at dinner, despite all the jokes and moments between you, there are pieces he doesn't see or reach for."

"We've only known each other for four months," Gabriella defended, not liking how Lucille's observations matched her own unwanted lines of thought some nights, "We have lots of time."

"Maybe," Lucille agreed, "But time is also the culprit forcing your hand and playing with your heart." Gabriella felt uncomfortable as the other woman searched her eyes for confirmation. Somehow, Gabriella felt she found it. "Do you love my son, Gabriella? Do you love Andy the way he loves you?"

"No," she answered honestly, swiping a hand against a single tear, "But I could."

"It's hard to love someone with all your heart when it's held by someone else," Lucille commented, before getting off the bed and patting Gabriella's shoulder.

Feeling like the dam behind her eyes was about to burst, Gabriella barely realized that Lucille had left the room.

~*~

It was the night before Christmas Eve that Gabriella eased open her door and padded in her bare feet down the staircase to the living room. Her arms were laden down with gaudy paper and cellophane wrapped gifts, their metallic bows throwing back refractions of light when she flicked the switch to illuminate the Christmas tree. Crossing the floor, the wood cool beneath her toes, Gabriella dropped to her knees and gingerly lifted the bottom branches of the tree with one hand, using the other to push her presents beneath the tree. Stacking them in clumps, evenly distributed so that they didn't spill out from underneath, she let the smell of the pine needles cling to her nose while she listened for the sound of movement upstairs.

She wasn't sure why her task needed to be done under the cover of a stroke after midnight, but she felt uncomfortable about the large stack of gifts Jack had jokingly pointed out with her name on them that morning. Hence her covert operation. Despite his parents' efforts to include her, Andy's limited interaction with her only lended to Gabriella's deepening feeling of infringement on the family. She felt like an outsider whose presence was only further inflicting tension upon a family dealing in the midst of overwhelming pain. Remaining on her knees after the last gift was settled, she closed her eyes and cupped her face with her hands, letting the thoughts tumble through her body.

"God, you're beautiful."

Her shoulders jerked in surprise and her hands dropped from her face as she turned to see Troy leaning against the doorway, his hands crossed over his chest. His cheek bones seemed more pronounced to her lately, but it could just be the shadows from restless sleep. Her breath caught, uncomfortable at being found unaware and vulnerable. Collapsing from her knees to sit cross legged, she looked at the tree but kept him in her line of sight. He made no move to come any closer, appearing content to just watch her.

"You shouldn't say things like that," she finally told him, lifting her hand to spin a glass ball hanging on a branch.

"It's true," he shrugged, his gaze less focused as he surveyed the tree.

"Doesn't matter," she whispered softly, bending her head. "You're fighting with Andy because of me, because of us, and saying things like that just make it more...I don't know."

"I'm not fighting with Andy," he corrected, shifting his shoulder against the post, "He's just trying to sort his head out. He knows everything about Colorado- I told him that night after you spoke to him- And he knows there was nothing to hide." Troy's voice lost the affirmative tone and softened back to the voice he usually used when speaking to her. "I think he understands."

"Then why won't he talk to me?" she pleaded, her jaw tight, "Why does he look at me like I'm beyond his reach?"

There was a pregnant pause while she waited for Troy's answer, watching his navy eyes for a spark of anything that would help. His gaze broke from hers for a moment, shifting to a framed family portrait from years before that hung on the wall by the fireplace. When he looked back, Gabriella's entire body froze, her nerves alive with every sensation, and she knew before he said it. It snaked through the connection that sparked between them and she knew.

"He knows I love you," Troy replied, his piercing stare never wavering and each word perfectly enunciated. "He was venting and asking questions and I think it slipped out, but when it did and I answered it, I could tell he had expected it. Ella, this is not about your loyalty, believe me. It's about him and me. He doesn't doubt you."

"You love me?" she choked out, ignoring the rest as her heart split in two and her chest burned. She crushed her hand to where the beating of her heart pulsed in fury and her skin ran hot and cold as everything fell into its place. All the dilemmas and wondering and traitorous thoughts- they all rearranged themselves to make sense. He loved her.

"How could I not?" he queried, his expression soft.

"But-," she couldn't finish the thought.

"Just-," Troy licked his lip, "-Know that I do, okay? That's all I need, El, is for you to know."

She closed her eyes, fighting the rising panic that was being built around her newly founded revelations, and nodded. She stayed there after he left, her eyes shut and her hands clenched around her knees, willing herself not to call after him.

~*~

Gabriella had always loved Christmas Eve more than any other night. When she was a child, and her grandparents were still alive, the Montez family would bundle up and make the short walk down the street of her grandparents' town to the local cathedral where the organ would play carols and the choir would sing along in Latin. Her grandmother would give her a book to follow the words with and although most of them were above Gabriella's vocabulary, it hadn't taken long before she no longer needed the hymn book to join in. When she was older and her grandmother had passed on, Gabriella joined the Christmas choir to the joy of her ill and aging grandfather. Standing beside the altar, dressed in white like the rest of her companions, Gabriella's voice had blended with theirs and her eyes never needed the gilded folder of music to guide her.

The year she met Troy was the first Christmas without her grandfather and one of the driving forces behind convincing her mother to book them rooms at the resort. She had felt lost that morning, waking up to room service instead of her mother's apple cinnamon pancakes and even when she ordered apple cider from the coffee shop overlooking the ski hill, Gabriella had known it wouldn't be the same as the family recipe she was so used to. As the day had trudged on towards dusk, she had been constantly aware of the difference from previous years. Little children reminded everyone who smiled at them that Santa was coming that night and when the slopes closed earlier than usual, she had returned her snowboard to the rental place and returned to her room to finish her small amount of wrapping. It had been late when Troy knocked on her door, returning from dinner in town, to tell her to bundle up and go with him.

She had done so without a question, intrigued by the mischievous smile on his lips. They had slipped quietly out of the resort, past the knowing smirks of the employees who reminded them not to lose their keys and parents who were snuggled by the fireplace waiting for their children to fall asleep, and followed the winding path that led to the quiet hills behind the building. The snow had crunched beneath their booted feet and flakes had tumbled on the wind to lay scattered across their shoulders and hats. They had frosted Gabriella's curls and clung to Troy's eyelashes as the two hurried hand in hand along the pathways dotted with pines and spruces. When they reached the top, where a small tree stood by itself in the clearing, Troy had unzipped his jacket and pulled out a coil of Christmas lights.

Even now, the memory caused her lips to curl softly into a smile as she sat nestled on the sofa in front of the lighted tree the two of them had decorated the previous week for the second year in a row. The sun was setting outside, and even without the snow, everything seemed to glow. A fire crackled in the fireplace, throwing back heat to ward of the slight chill to the air and Gabriella's cheeks were flushed as the extra heat warmed her skin. The blanket from the couch rested across her legs and her hands pressed against the hot ceramic of her mug of apple cider made from scratch and the recipe card taken from her grandmother's cookbook years before. She loved Christmas Eve, but this year the small moments and details seemed especially fragile.

The Bolton house echoed with muffled noises. She knew that Lucille was in the study wrapping gifts to be delivered that evening and that Jack was in the kitchen making small preparations for the dinner occurring the next day. Children's voices could be heard from outside, their laughs and giggles making Gabriella grin at how easy it used to be. She had talked to her mother earlier that day, exchanging small pleasantries and wishes for the New Year with the promise to see each other soon. Taking a sip from her mug, Gabriella looked up from the steam when Andy called her name from the doorway of the living room.

"I was thinking of taking a walk," he told her, his voice holding something she had never heard before and couldn't place, "Will you come with me?"

She nodded, standing to place the blanket along the back of the sofa and replacing the coaster in the small drawer built into the coffee table. She felt Andy watching her as she took her drink to the kitchen and placed it on the stove next to the pot of cider brewing. He held her coat for her as she slid her arms in, and took the hat he offered to jam over her hair. Pulling on her boots, she felt a tingle of déjà vu travel up her spine but she offered him a tight smile as he led her out the door and down the steps of the porch. Things were silent as they passed the houses along the street with their lights on and the trees twinkling in the windows. Gabriella looped her arm through Andy's as they continued, feeling uneasy as he squeezed her hand awkwardly but didn't say anything to her as he led them away from the sidewalk and down a fenced pathway to a playground abandoned by children in await for Santa Clause and his sleigh.

"Troy and I used to play here all the time," Andy told her, shoving his hands in the deep pockets of his jacket. It was cool, the temperature hovering a few points above the freezing mark and Gabriella shivered as she sat on a swing and wrapped her gloved hands around the metal chains. "When we got older and Dad put in the half court behind the house, I used to come here to think once I knew all the younger kids had gone home. I'd sit on that swing like you're doing now and I'd wait for the answer to come me."

"This is where you've been coming the last few days," Gabriella realized, the toe of her boot drawing patterns in the pebbles beneath the swing. Andy had taken a seat on the wooden enclosure that kept the rocks from spilling onto the grass, trying to appear relaxed and yet every line of his face was tight. "I thought it was because you didn't want to be in the house with me."

She heard the haltingness of his breath and saw the hesitancy in his eyes as his gaze shifted and the wind tousled his hair. Her brows came together and she failed to hide the hurt in her eyes as he sent her an apologetic glance.

"I was avoiding you," he admitted, sighing so heavily that his breath hung for mere seconds in the air, "But only because I had a decision to make-things to think through- and seeing you everywhere would have made it harder."

"What decision?" Gabriella asked, stopping the pumping motion with her legs and dragging her feet to a halt. "Andy, what's going on?"

"I talked to Troy," Andy began as if he hadn't heard her, staring at the ground instead of her face, "About Colorado and how you two met. He told me everything and although I don't understand why it was so hard for you to tell me- why it was so difficult to just mention it when you found out- I get that it was never because of deceit or secrets. It just happened and I could let that go." He looked up at her then, her body stilled on the swing and only the creak of chains being heard around them, but he dropped his head just as quickly. "I would never let the fact that you and my brother were friends for a short period of time get in the way of us or what we could have."

"Okay," Gabriella nodded her head while drawing out the word. Remembering what Troy had said the night before and the awkwardness being exhibited by Andy now, she felt like she was desperately missing something big. "So where does that leave us?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders and dropping his hands to dangle between his bent knees. "If it was just about Colorado, I'd say we move on and leave it behind. I'd say I over-reacted and felt left out, but I understand and it's not that big of a deal." His head lifted and his gaze bore into hers so desperately that she froze, unable to break the stare. "But it's not just about Colorado."

Her heart pounded in her chest, threatening to explode as her thoughts tumbled at a hundred miles per second. She felt hot beneath the jacket and hat, her hands shaking as they clung to the swing chains. She knew what Troy had told him, but the look in Andy's gaze told her that he was expecting something from her. He was waiting for her and she was afraid that he had already discovered her inner turmoil and knew of the questions that had been plaguing her for the last two weeks. Her cheeks paled as she continued to look into the blue gaze that she had told Troy was so different from his. Her heartbeat skipped its rhythm and Andy offered her a grim smile.

"He loves you." He kicked a pebble, the sound of it colliding with others of its kind the only sound above the breeze. The expression on his face barely shifted as he watched her and Gabriella wrestled with whether or not to tell him she had already known that. "He loves you and I think a part of me knew that before I asked. Watching you two, someone would think you'd known each other for years instead of a handful of days here and a few days there. That comes from something deeper, and if I can step back and let him have the one thing he wants during his final months, and days, then I'll do it."

"You don't have to do anything, Andy," she told him. She left the swing to vibrate in the night and crouched on the ground in front of his knees. "He doesn't expect you to do anything. He would never ask that of you."

"He's not asking," Andy told her, his voice thick and husky and Gabriella felt them both struggling with their emotions and inner calm. "He would never ask for either of us to sacrifice each other for him, but I will do it anyway. Gabi, this is your way out. You're too afraid to admit it, but you love him- maybe you have all this time-and yet you'll never admit it unless I remove myself from the problem. I'm standing in your way."

"You can't be serious!" Gabriella cried, stumbling to her feet and out of her position that had been meant to offer solace and comfort. She hadn't expected this. Andy's admissions hit her in the gut and she struggled to understand what he saw. For a moment, she felt betrayed, thinking he felt so little of what they could build that he would give it up in an instant. Then, frustration reared its head again while control spun further beyond her grasp. "You're not the only one in this relationship! You don't get to make decisions like this without me!"

"Yes, I can," he told her insistently, "I've already done it. I can't force you to be with him. I can't make you love him if you don't, but I can see the difference between our relationship and the one you have with Troy. It's more than knowing we won't have that, it's the fact that I can't bring myself to touch you when he's around. It's the way he needs us both right now, but in different ways. Don't you see, Gabriella? Nothing between us can ever be the same and it's no one's fault, but it's the truth."

"So you're breaking up with me? Even if I don't go to Troy, you'd end this right here and right now?" The tears flowed down her cheeks to her gloved hands that covered her mouth as she tried to bring her thoughts under control. "Andy, why are you doing this?"

His eyes swept her face and she shivered under his scrutiny, the tears freezing on her cheeks as the wind played with her hair. Her hands were lowered to grip the collar of her jacket close, in a hopeless attempt to keep everything within it from spilling out. Her emotions were frazzled and her nerves raw; her thoughts scattered like seeds to every corner of possibility. She hated that he was doing what she'd never have the strength to do, and she hated that it was going to cause him more pain than anyone else. When he spoke, she knew it would be the last time he would look at her that way. She knew it was end.

"I'm doing this because he loves you, and because I think somewhere buried beneath your morals and loyalty and determination to do what's right- you love him too. I'm doing this because it's all I can offer." He stepped towards her until their breath formed a single cloud. "Gabi, please let me do this. The final decision is yours, but please let me walk away."

"I-," she hiccupped and roughly wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, "I need to think. I need you to leave."

"Alright," he agreed softly, the pain evident in his voice but she turned away from his hand that reached to touch her one last time, "I understand."

"I love you, you know that, right?" she asked suddenly to the dark, calling after his retreating back that walked towards the entrance of the path and led back to the sidewalk. He looked back over his shoulder and sighed heavily enough that she saw the slight movement in his shoulders.

"I know you do. I never thought otherwise." Andy paused for another moment, as if making sure she heard him. "I'm just not sure it's enough for us right now."

He turned away from her after those final words, trudging heavily down the path until he disappeared from her sight. She could see him in her mind, making the slow journey back to the house that showed festive spirit on the outside and bittersweet joy on the inside as his parents got ready for Christmas morning. Taking a seat on the swing again, Gabriella tried to make sense of it all. Andy. Troy. Love. Life. In the end, she simply stared into the blackness of the night as it approached midnight and Christmas day, the stars twinkling overhead. There was, she realized as her only solid conclusion, no sense in any of it.

~*~

The mug of coffee held between her freezing hands kept them from trembling as she gripped the ceramic tightly. From her seat in the armchair near the doorway of the living room, Gabriella watched as the Bolton family surrounded the Christmas tree. Smiles and jokes were exchanged, Jack nudging Andy's shoulder with a fist as he unwrapped a gift with a shining smile. Troy ruffled his younger brother's shaggy mop before tossing a package to his mother who was seated beside the sofa, inspecting a basket of bath products from her husband. From her position on the outer edges of the clan, Gabriella could see how they relaxed and eased into the holiday traditions.

Nestled between her hip and the cushion of the chair, was a Christmas stocking left for Gabriella above the fireplace with those of the family and the thoughtfulness warmed her heart that was still cracking from the night before. Fingering the perfect curls of the candy canes, Gabriella felt her throat ache and her eyes burn. Hiding it by taking a deep drink of coffee, she fought to regain control. It came slowly, and when she finally resettled the mug, she caught Troy's eyes staring into her own. Taking a deep interest in the chocolate mints in her stocking, she managed to avoid his questioning gaze and he went back to listening to Jack tell the story of obtaining Lucille's gift certificate from the downtown spa she enjoyed that he had slipped inside her gift of pyjamas.

Troy had been in the kitchen setting the coffee maker for the next morning when Gabriella had finally dragged herself off the swing set and made the wary walk back to the Bolton house the night before. The windows had been dark, the porch lights switched off, by the time she used the key from under the mat to unlock the front door and soundlessly slip inside the still entry way. She had startled Troy, who along with his parents, had thought she was asleep upstairs considering the hour. It had been obvious from her puffy cheeks and blood-shot eyes that she was anything but fine, yet she had brushed off his concerns with a wave of her hand. Pulling the hat from her hair and tossing her jacket on a hook, she had ignored his attempts to gain information and ascended the stairs to her room. She hadn't wanted to be rude, but at the particular moment, she had been falling apart and Troy was the last person who she could allow to piece everything back together. His concern was still etched on his face when she appeared on Christmas morning, quiet and withdrawn, but she had refused to ruin the day by explaining Andy's decision.

His eyes caught hers again from his place across the room, but when she looked away, she simply found herself looking into the guilt stricken face of Andy. Gabriella saw the way Troy's head turned to his brother, and then back to her, as realization dawned in his eyes. She knew he wouldn't know the whole of it, but he knew who was to blame. It was Lucille who unknowingly interrupted, asking Jack to change the CD in the player before smiling at Gabriella.

"Dear, I believe there is a pile of gifts under this tree for you," Lucille began warmly, standing to search them out. Gabriella shifted in her chair and set her mug aside.

She really didn't want to open gifts that Andy had picked out before last night; things that may have held some meaning but now only held empty promises. Plastering a smile on her face, she rose from her spot and made a pathway through the remnants of wrapping paper and bows. Cards and tags lay spread across the rug and tape stuck to the bottom of her sock. She hesitated on where to sit until Troy stood and indicated she take his place.

"Here, this way we don't have to hand them to you," he told her as she sat next to the stack of gaudy boxes that Lucille was patiently pulling from beneath the tree. "Mom has this thing where everyone opens their presents in turn. We saved you for the grand finale."

"Thank you," Gabriella murmured, reaching for the red and green wrapped box on the top. Her hand brushed against Troy's as he placed another on her pile, and she jerked her hand back at the tingling sensation that rushed through her. Keeping her eyes downcast, she carefully peeled back the tape and pushed away the paper to reveal a set of books by her favourite author of historical and political biographies. "Oh, this is awesome," she gushed.

"I noticed you had some in your room a few days after you'd arrived," Lucille told her, "So I figured they were a safe choice."

For the next half hour, while Jack popped in and out of the room from checking on the turkey and Lucille made an attempt to gather all the garbage, Gabriella opened each gift. She put as much time into opening them as she had wrapping those for others, making the few strands of time without thinking of the future last as long as she could. Despite her focus on keeping things light and despite the smiles and laughs, she could feel the undercurrent to her actions as her thoughts reminded her that this was the last time it would be like this. Adding the sweater from Andy to the pile that included jeans and boots that her mother had sent, more books and movies and photo frames from the Bolton parents and CDs and a framed photograph of one of the beaches in California from Andy, Gabriella reached for the final box that was left.

"You don't have to open that," Andy told her quietly, causing her to jerk her head up.

"It's not from you, though," she answered, confused as she re-read the tag. "It's from Troy."

"I know," Andy said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, "But it's supposed to go on-"

"Ella, it's okay if you want to wait," Troy told her but she heard the disappointment in his voice and steeled herself against whatever it was that had Andy worried.

"No, I want to," she insisted, ripping the bow off as she did.

Underneath the gold wrapping paper was a red box that hid a much smaller white jewellery box. Her breath hitched as she remembered the last time she had held a similar object in her hand. It had been her birthday in October and Andy had given her a charm bracelet in an identical box. She understood what he had been trying to tell her without ruining the surprise a minute before and she closed her eyes before taking off the lid.

"Oh," she gasped, unable to bring her finger to touch the two tiny square links that lay on a bed of cotton. One was fairly simple, its silver plate acting as a background to the pair of gold plated skis that crossed each other on the face of the charm. The second was a Christmas tree, gold with an amber gem acting as a star. "Troy, they're beautiful."

"Andy mentioned that he had given you the bracelet for your birthday, so I thought you could add them to it," he replied, uncharacteristically shy as faint color brushed his cheeks and he ducked his head as his fingers unravelled a discarded bow. "But if you don't want to-"

"I love them," she told him with one of the few genuine smiles all morning, "Of course I'd wear them."

Across from where she sat, she saw Andy relax at the silent message that she would still wear his earlier gift. Adding Troy's selections to it would make it easier, but she would have done it nonetheless. The tension in the room eased slightly as Gabriella replaced the lid to the box and settled it with the rest of her gifts. Leaning back on her elbows, she let her gaze sweep upwards from the base of the tree until she could see the angel resting on the top. A body settled beside her, his warmth seeping through her sweatpants as he pressed close. When she heard someone leave the room, Gabriella knew who it was without ever looking away.

~*~

She didn't know what woke her that night. It was long after the presents had been opened and dinner had been eaten. It was several hours after late night eggnog and shortbread cookies were eaten while watching old re-runs of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer in the version that included the Abominable Snowman, that had been followed by the entire fivesome climbing the stairs to their beds, that Gabriella found herself awake and staring at her ceiling.

The clock beside her bed declared Christmas officially over and something inside Gabriella's chest squeezed so tightly that she felt the information would break her in two. They would never have another Christmas and it rang in her skull like an alarm. Suddenly, her breath rushed out and she clutched at the bedspread as Andy's words on the playground rattled in her memory. The things he had said and the certainty in which they had been spoken jumped to her lips and she repeatedly the conversation to herself without a word, her lips moving in haste as she sought to find what had her blood running cold.

Images ran through her head like a movie reel, scenes jumping out as the adrenaline climbed up her back. Mornings in Colorado, with the sun sparkling off fresh powder as Troy strapped her helmet in place. Evenings inside a coffee shop, curled up in a corner with no one to interrupt. A makeshift stage where they shared a microphone, laughing as they stumbled through the words and making up their own when needed. There was a lull, and then new scenes. That first day in the bookstore when her heart leapt to think it was Troy in front of her. Their first date at a basketball game where all she had done for most of it was to think of the lessons on the rules that Troy had given her one afternoon while drawing on a napkin in the resort restaurant. There were flashes of the times Troy had called and she had wondered what would happen if she had answered Andy's phone. The pictures seemed to slow as Christmas approached and she relived the moment where she heard that he was dying and the moment where he said she was what he had constantly asked for. Then she was back at the playground and Andy was breaking up with her.

Gabriella's head snapped up and her eyes widened in the dimly lit room. She hadn't seen it. Hadn't been able to admit it to herself. She felt joy and giddiness all at once before anguish set in. She loved him but couldn't keep him. No matter how much of herself she gave to him, he belonged to time. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she buried her head in her hands. Seconds ticked by and the clock counted another minute before she bolted from the bed and slipped out of the door. The hardwood of the hallway was cool beneath her feet as she hesitated with her hand on the doorknob to his room. She considered knocking, but decided against it. She didn't need him to comfort her or accept her words. All she wanted was to see that he was still there. That they still had time.

Troy lay on his back, one arm flung over his head with his face turned towards the door. The glow from the nightlight in the hallway made a smudged path across his chest and stomach where the covers were drawn up, his other arm resting on top. His hair fell away from his face and he never moved as she took a step inside the threshold and stopped. Her eyes were trained on the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the sheets and she turned to go, satisfied that she hadn't realized her feelings too late. Making to retreat and go back to her room, she turned around on impulse. Nothing in his posture had changed, his breaths just as rhythmic as before, but instead of leaving Gabriella padded softly across his floor.

Her fingertips traced his hand and then his arm, travelling up to his face without ever touching him. Stopping at his jaw, her fingers stilled as he shifted slightly. Groggily, his eyes opened and then shut lazily. One bent knee lowered and the other moved a fraction of a centimetre, his respiration resuming its even sequence. Gently, she brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across his brow and pressed her lips to his forehead.

Then she left, shutting the door behind her, and went back to bed.


	6. PART VI

_**AN: **__I usually don't do this, but this chapter goes to all the November birthday fans, including Jez who gave me an idea for the next chapter while we were both extremely intoxicated and celebrating my birthday. And to Kelly, who has a future beyond fanfic, because until they begin paying us, we all need to be responsible. And to all the people who helped me write parts of this chapter that had me really worried. Another enthusiastic thanks to all the reviewers who have stuck with this despite the edge of the cliff being miles behind me. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

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~*~

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**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART SIX**

"_It's alright, you can sleep sound tonight." _

_-Superman, Five For Fighting_

* * *

The sun filtering through her window warmed her face as Gabriella's eyes fluttered open the morning after Christmas. Her mind fought to catch the fleeting fragments of her dreams, but as she rolled to her side and pushed aside the blankets she could recall little beyond memories of light and air and laughter. She paused with her feet dangling over the edge of the mattress, a light smile on her face as she closed her eyes and clung to the few moments of peace.

No noise could be heard from other parts of the house and a quick glance at the clock told her it was still relatively early considering it was a holiday and the household had the chance to sleep in. Gabriella felt restless, however, her fingers drumming along the comforter bunched on the bed. Deciding there was no point in trying to go back to sleep, she got up and dressed. Pulling a U of A hoodie over her head that had been the other half of her gift from Troy, Gabriella searched for socks before quietly easing out of her bedroom and tiptoeing downstairs to the kitchen. She wasn't the only one up early.

Troy sat at the kitchen table, his vision trained on the ceramic mug before him that wafted steam into the air. The coffee pot dripped in a steady rhythm on the counter behind him; the only sound in the room. He looked the same as he had the night before, with every line and every groove matching the patterns Gabriella had traced while he slept. Her fingers itched to comb back the stray strands of hair that fell into his eyes. He barely moved when he spoke to her, never meeting her gaze but focusing on his drink as if it held hidden secrets.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked quietly, his shoulders hunched and both hands gripping the mug. Gabriella looked at him, confused, wondering if she should ask what he meant. Instead she remained silent, not moving from the doorway. "I knew there was something wrong, but I thought-," he looked up then and she saw the tight, white lines around his mouth. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was mad at him," Gabriella said simply, crossing her arms over her chest in an effort to keep her heart together as she realized what Troy was talking about. "He broke up with me for reasons I couldn't or didn't want to see at the time. He's your brother and I was mad at him, so I chose not to say anything about it. Obviously, he told you."

"Only that you two had decided to end things," Troy answered softly, his voice hesitant and full of questions. "He didn't say anything else. I asked him if it was about you and me and what I had said, but he said it didn't matter. He said there was something bigger about it all." Gabriella saw him look at her from the corner of her eye, but the remainder of her vision focused on the floor and a tiny red sprinkle that had fallen from a cookie. It looked so abandoned on the floor, forgotten and unseen. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she answered, her voice barely above a whisper to keep from cracking. There was so much about her and Andy that she could discuss with Troy, but everything was so raw and open still. "He did it Christmas Eve; I didn't really have a say in it. I think he'd had made up his mind a few days before that anyway."

She had reached the table and drew invisible hearts on the wood grain with one fingertip while the other remained tucked under her armpit. Troy stayed quiet, his coffee untouched as he watched her face. Gabriella braced herself for the questions she expected him to ask. The questions she had asked herself when she contemplated how to answer him. They didn't come and the silence stretched throughout the room; even the coffee pot had stopped dripping. Sucking in a breath, Gabriella pushed forward without prompting.

"He was right, you know," she said, watching as the implications registered with Troy. "About everything. He said he couldn't stand by and keep you from the one thing you wanted when it was what I wanted too. He was right when he said I loved you. I realized it last night, and I stopped being mad at him and decided to be mad at myself for a bit."

Her fingers were white where they gripped the fabric of her sweatshirt, the blood in her veins pounding with the rush of the moment. The words were spilling out, every realization, every emotion, and every desire. Her nerves fizzled with pent up stress as she told him about the movie in her head. His eyes bore into hers as she choked out the memories that had invaded her mind the night before. Her voice was insistent, asking if he remembered the smell of mountain powder and cafe cinnamon. She reminded him of crackling firewood and jingle bells, frosted window panes and clouds of warm breath. Gabriella saw the hope and burning need in Troy's eyes as she fed him every encounter they had ever had, every joke they had ever shared and in the end, the words trailed off because she had nothing else to convince him that Andy had been right; had known before she did. But she knew it know.

"And who are you mad at now?" Troy asked softly, his blue eyes sparkling with hidden mirth as he watched Gabriella gasp for breath and compose herself.

She found what she wanted in his eyes- trust, understanding, love- but he held back from making his own confessions. Perhaps he thought he had said enough already. Perhaps he felt she was still at odds with herself. Gabriella wasn't sure, so she decided not to push for answers or commitment. She'd let him make the moves, take the first step. He knew she was there; it couldn't have been made any clearer. Taking her freezing cold hands, she gripped the back of the kitchen chair facing his seat that he had yet to move from. In the clearest, most assured voice she could muster given the angst still laced in it, Gabriella looked him right in the eye and spoke the truth.

"Right now, I'm currently mad at God." She paused for a moment, thinking the quirk of Troy's mouth meant he thought she was kidding. "Don't laugh, I'm serious. I'm pretty fucking pissed."

"I'm not laughing at you," Troy replied, his voice even and the humour she had imagined gone completely. "Actually, we're pretty much on the same page as far as God goes."

Gabriella nodded and remained standing behind the chair, watching as Troy took a sip of coffee and grimaced before setting it back down. She noticed for the first time that three prescription bottles from the pharmacy, instead of the usual one, sat next to the bowl of plastic fruit in the center of the table. Without thinking, she picked up the one closest to her and read the label. Its six syllable name that she would probably mispronounce if she tried made her stomach icy and slightly nauseous. There was something sinister about drugs with fancy scientific names, and bright warning labels. Turning it on its side, and feeling Troy watch as she did so, she read the tiny stickers that warned him to take it on an empty stomach, not to expose himself to too much sunlight, and to be aware not to operate heavy machinery. Gabriella wanted to scoff at the ridiculousness of the pharmacist's efforts but stopped herself. Instead, more out of curiosity than anything else, she picked up the other two.

"What are you doing?" Troy asked softly, his chin propped up on his fist and his eyebrows slightly scrunched. Gabriella looked at him, uncomfortable, before seeing the amusement in his eyes and hearing the light tone in his voice.

"I've never seen you take these two," she told him with a shrug, gently shaking the prescriptions that weren't for his headaches. "I thought I might know what they were. I did this assignment last term on the chemistry in chemotherapy drugs, but I don't recognize these."

Troy gestured her forward until her legs brushed against his knees and his shoulder was level with her chest. Dropping them in his hand, Gabriella watched as he read over the labels before answering her. It took him a couple of moments, longer than she would have thought, and then he unscrewed the lids and shook out a couple into her upheld palm. They looked as harmless as Aspirin or Tylenol, but then Gabriella remembered the string of letters that formed their names and she knew they were anything but something you'd find in your bathroom vanity.

"This one is to counteract the side effects of the headache drugs. It's supposed to help with my appetite and the nausea." He put the pill back into the bottle and pointed to the remaining drug in her hand. "That one is a steroid. They say it will minimize the headaches so they're less frequent," Troy snapped the lids back on, the click of the safety lock echoing like a prison door.

"Is it working?" Gabriella asked quietly, her eyes on the bottles and not on his face although she knew he was looking at her.

"I haven't really been taking it," he admitted. "They make me dizzy and clumsy and there's a really high chance of swelling and weight gain. I'd rather just deal with the headaches."

"But if they help-," Gabriella began, catching her lip between her teeth as he placed the prescriptions on the counter and took her empty hands in his.

"I don't have a lot of time, Ella," Troy reminded her gently, rubbing circles on the back of her hands. "But I want to live the way I want with the time I do have. I want to talk to my friends and family. I want to cement every moment in my mind, even if it won't matter to me but because it will matter to them. I want to fight as long as I can, and I can't do that when everything I do is clouded by drugs. I will take them when I have headaches and I will take the ones that help me eat and keep going, but I don't see the point in suffering through crappy side effects if it means the next few months are hazy and foggy. I want to live, El, and some of the drugs don't let me do that, they just let me survive. There's a difference."

Gabriella nodded, seeing his point and understanding his desire to hold out as long as possible before giving into the downhill slide that would eventually happen. She agreed with him, knowing she'd rather have a handful of months with the guy she knew, than a prolonged period of time where he was alive but lost to her in other ways. Instinctly, she tightened her grip on Troy's fingers, only noticing when he squeezed back.

"I just wish there was something to be done," she whispered, feeling tears prick her eyes and praying they wouldn't fall. "I wish there had been a chance to fight. It would have been hard but-God!- it would have been something." She tried to yank her hands away to pace, but he only let one go and clutched the other one tighter.

"El, are you sure you're ready to be in this?" he asked, looking up at her and Gabriella wished she had left her hair down so she could hide the welling tears behind her curly hair. She nodded, closing her eyes and willing herself to keep it together. "All the way in? Until the end?"

"Yes," she answered shakily. Steadying herself, she sucked in a breath and let it out slowly while Troy watched, concerned. "Yes. I am."

Troy gave her a watery smile when she looked up from the plaid of his pyjama bottoms and into his eyes. His features blurred for a moment before she swiped at the tears, only to see similar ones in his eyes. He let go of her hand and cupped her face with both of his as she bent her head to meet his forehead. Upstairs, they could hear footsteps, but for a handful of moments they stayed in their own bubble of protection where it was just the two of them. It was Gabriella who pulled back first, wiping the tear tracks off her cheeks.

"Alright, but there are rules," Troy told her, a mock serious look on his face that caused a choked giggle to escape. "First rule is no unnecessary tears."

"Okay," Gabriella said, returning his serious look. Her tears had dried and she resolved herself to let it happen as little as possible when he was around. "What's the second rule?"

"Second rule is you have to spend New Years Eve with me," Troy answered cheekily, his eyes crinkling when she blushed. "There won't be any karaoke like last year, but I think we can find some cocoa and some blankets; maybe sit on the porch and pretend there is snow falling."

"Alright," she told him as the noise beginning overhead indicated someone was up and in the shower, "I'll even bring my hat and mittens."

"That's my girl," he whispered.

~*~

The days leading up to New Years Eve crept by, leaving Christmas officially behind. The Bolton household spent their days entertaining visitors, anyone from neighbours and friends to a handful of distant family driving into the city for the day. Gabriella was reintroduced to Chad Danforth, this time by a more conscious Troy, and Gabriella's heart warmed by the look of appreciation in Chad's eyes when he learned that Gabriella and Andy were no longer together. He brought with him a handful of loud, messy, generally unruly guys who declared themselves Troy's Posse and spent an entire day sprawled around the living room eating junk food and challenging each other to another try at one video game or another. Gabriella stayed out of their way after the initial name exchanges, choosing instead to help Lucille in the kitchen while occasionally taking glances at the other room. When Troy fell asleep midway through the afternoon, the gang merely turned the volume down on the TV and removed the bowl of pretzels from beside him before continuing into the evening.

There were afternoons and evenings where Andy's slightly quieter group of friends stopped by to watch a movie or catch-up while shooting hoops out in the backyard. Andy was always polite, introducing her as the friend he'd brought home for Christmas. Although some gave her curious glances, they never snubbed her or were rude. For the most part, that's what Gabriella was to both Bolton boys. She was a friend. Andy and she still chatted when they were together and together they avoided discussing the hated topic of returning to school at the end of break. It was just like they were at the beginning of the school year before the night that marked their first date. As for Troy, he and Gabriella joked and occasionally skirted the notion of flirting, but remained nothing as intimately defined as 'together'. Jack had commented on their openness with one another once, a couple of days before New Year's Eve, and Troy had told him nothing was different. The unspoken comment was that they acted just how they had in Colorado when there was no one between them.

It was in the quiet moments when no one was around, that the depth of their bond really shone through. It was in that time that Gabriella would lean in close or Troy's hand would brush against hers for no reason other than to let her know he was there. There could be a crowd of people in the next room, but as long as they remained in a private bubble, separate from reality, Gabriella could let herself believe that they could last through anything. She knew the truth, what the inevitable was, but a simple touch from Troy could make her believe anything was possible. Yet, her precious moments of blissful thinking, would be yanked away by darker moments where Troy's illness showed through.

It was New Years Eve Eve as Lucille had taken to calling it, and she was out grocery shopping with Andy for enough food to feed an army. Her reasoning had been that any son of hers ringing in the new year at the Evans' mansion with Ryan and Sharpay Evans could only attend if said son had an ample supply of food to bring as an offering. Gabriella hadn't thought that Andy was close with the Evans' twins although she had heard their name mentioned on a handful of occasions, but there had been an explanation of a best friend's sister who was friends with the girlfriend of Ryan Evans that made every curious resident in the Bolton house shutup and simply nod. Gabriella muttered to Troy that it was an excuse to not be left alone in the house with them.

Jack and Lucille were likewise heading downtown to the Richmont Hotel where Jack had planned an exquisite evening for just the two of them. Troy had helped convince Lucille it was necessary, which meant Jack was out shopping for appropriate clothing to wear to the five star restaurant where reservations were booked for the evening as well. It left Gabriella and Troy home, savouring the privacy and watching a college basketball game on TV. Gabriella was wedged between the arm of the couch and the back, her feet stretched out on the coffee table and Troy's head in her lap. Her fingers lazily toyed with strands of his hair while her eyes held a slightly glazed look as she listened to the sports announcers drone on and on about hotshot players and potential college drafts. Troy's eyes were closed and his breath even, but every time she attempted to change the channel he would shift slightly and ask her what the score was. So she continued to watch the tiny orange ball be tossed back and forth and tried not to think about how it had been the boy in her lap only a month ago.

"Who just scored?" Troy mumbled drowsily as the fans on the screen screamed and yelled at a horn blast. Gabriella looked down at him and inwardly sighed, having no actual idea what the answer was. "El? Was it MacNeil?"

"Um, does he play for the blue team?" She saw the lines in his forehead crease into a frown.

"No, the blue team is UCLA. MacNeil plays for Delaware State," Troy told her, his eyes never opening as he relayed the information to her. "Who got the points for UCLA?"

"Oh, uh-," Gabriella scanned the backs of the red jerseys for a name. Any name. "-Michaels."

"I hate Micheals," Troy told her before turning his face away from the TV. "Tell me if Jacobs gets any."

"Sure," she told him, drawing out the word sarcastically. She thought she saw a slight tilt to his lips as she said it, but he never gave himself away so she continued to talk to herself. "Now who the hell is Jacobs?"

"Number 12," came the muffled reply and Gabriella rolled her eyes. "He plays for UCLA. Point-guard. Best in the league. Better than stupid playboy Michaels." Troy's hand moved so that it was laced with hers that rested over his shoulder and along his chest, following the path of couch cushions. "You're not wearing your bracelet," he mentioned.

"I took it off to shower and just didn't put it back on," she told him, glancing down to her bare wrist to see his fingers tracing a line where the silver band usually clung.

"I'm glad you wear it," he told her, his words disjointed from the drugs she had convinced him to take earlier and the broken sleep of the last hour. "It's a little piece of me and a little piece of Andy."

"That's why I love it," she assured him quietly, taking his hand so that he stopped the tickling motion with his fingers. "I'll put it on before dinner."

"You'll wear it tomorrow night, right?" he asked. He didn't wait for her to answer. "The skis were for Colorado. I wish we were there."

"Do you want to go?" she asked, sitting up straighter. Lucille and Jack had suggested returning for the beginning of January, but Troy had told them no. "We can go. You dad can get the tickets-"

"No, I mean I wish it was last year in Colorado. I wish it was last year so we still had a whole year left. We could ski and snowboard and hide in the cafe. If we went now, I wouldn't be able to use a board properly; it wouldn't be the same." He squeezed her hand. "Here is good. You're here. We don't need Colorado anymore."

She nodded, smoothing a hand down his cheek as he smiled at the touch, watching as he fell asleep again.

~*~

The Bolton house was a flurry of rushed activity as its residents flitted from room to room in an effort to gather what they needed before leaving for the evening. Upstairs, Gabriella could hear Andy rummaging through the cabinet under the bathroom sink for a toothbrush and toothpaste. He had yelled down the staircase a number of times trying to locate his razor, the hair gel and an iron, only to be yelled at for being loud while Troy slept. In the living room, his friends noisily ate the chocolate chip cookies offered by Lucille and fought over the TV remote in between yelling for Andy to hurry up so they could get going. A group of them were going out for pizza before heading to Evans' party. Gabriella caught Andy's shout of goodbye as he bounded past the door to the kitchen, his overnight bag in hand, stepping around his father who was on his way in from outside.

Jack grabbed the bottle of champagne and the bowl of fresh strawberries off of the table where his wife had left them before returning to the vehicle in the driveway that he was packing with two over night bags, some snacks and the clothing bags containing his suit and Lucille's dress for the night. Entering the house again, he called down to the laundry room where Lucille was finishing up her final task before they both left for the hotel downtown. He paused casually by the kitchen table, idly scanning the front page of the abandoned newspaper that had sat there all day. The rustling of the pages caused Gabriella to turn away from the counter where she was chopping peppers on the cutting board, the rhythmic sound of the knife on wood soothing as she worked.

"Do you have everything you need?" Jack asked, looking up and catching Gabriella's gaze as she paused in her preparations. She quickly surveyed the items scattered over the countertop before answering.

"Yeah, thanks," she replied demurely, feeling slightly uneasy about the evening. Swallowing her nervousness, she fixed her gaze on a spot on the wall just past Jack's ear. "I know Andy made that awkward comment at the table this morning, but I promise we're not-," Gabriella swallowed again, her cheeks burning to match the tomatoes clustered on the vine to her left. "I mean, it's not like that."

Continuing to stare at the floor, Gabriella tried to lessen the tension in the room and attempted to ignore the slight wince that crossed the older Bolton's face as her comment introduced unnecessary considerations into his head. Groaning, she spun back to the counter and began furiously chopping up the remainder of her red pepper, letting the tangy aroma permeate the air in the room. She had meant to assure him that her moments with Troy were more emotional than physical and that their developing relationship offered something profound to each of them that an empty house with all its possibilities could. Instead, she had opened herself up to a conversation she now desperately wished to avoid. Jack's sigh brought Gabriella's gaze back to his face, turning her head to look over her shoulder to where he was running a hand through his hair in a way both his sons tended to mimic.

"Gabriella, you love my son," he began, hesitating over the words, "It is only natural that you...uh...consider...certain things." He licked his lips and Gabriella expected him to look away and leave the discussion at that, but instead he suddenly looked directly in her eyes and his voice steadied the next time he spoke. "Just make him happy."

"That's all I want to do," Gabriella assured him as her hand hovered above the cutting board, her voice sure and holding no doubt.

~*~

Music drifted through the open French doors that separated the dining room from the living room where the sound system played. When it stopped for a moment, Gabriella paused and cocked her head to the side, waiting to hear the click that signalled the machine switching CDs. When the music resumed, she gave one last inspection of the room before dimming the light switch on the wall so that the chandelier hanging over the table emitted just enough light to be considered romantic without running the risk of confusing the salsa with the sour cream.

Bowls of food covered the table. In the beginning, she had thought to make fajitas, one of the few Mexican dishes she knew Troy would enjoy instead of being scared away by its foreignness. She had gone to the grocery store that morning and loaded up with everything she would need, but found herself picking up random items that weren't necessary. As the preparation had worn on, Gabriella had added chilli and traditional guacamole to the menu. Her plan for simple brownies evolved to include cinnamon funnel cake. Nibbling her lip in the dim dining room, listening for sounds of movement on the floor above her, she hoped that Troy wouldn't think she'd gone overboard. Stepping forward to straighten a place setting so that the fork was perfectly aligned with the knife, she was distracted by footsteps on the stairs.

"El?" Troy called, his voice letting her know he was confused about random music and the dirty dishes strewn about the kitchen that he would have encountered.

"Down the hall," she responded, stepping out of the room so he could see her when he entered the hallway. "How's the headache?"

"Gone for the moment," he answered and she hid her wince at his slightly cranky tone. She knew he was having a crappy day and that it was aggravated more than usual by the fact that he wanted their night to be perfect. She had picked up on the headache before he mentioned it, noticing that morning how he sat away from the windows and clenched his teeth at the smallest sounds. Only when all color had left his face and his movements became jerky did his mother order him upstairs. "I can't believe I slept through the entire afternoon," he sighed. His eyes widened when he stepped past Gabriella and saw the spread arranged on the table.

"I, uh, spent the day cooking," Gabriella began, her eyes shifting to follow Troy's gaze, "But if you're not hungry or feeling up to it-"

"You did all of this for us?" he asked, looking down at her with awe. "Were you going to invite an army to join us?"

"I know it's a lot but I was thinking about the other day when your dad brought home that crappy chilli from the diner and you mentioned wanting to taste real Mexican flavour," Gabriella babbled, wringing her hands together without meeting the piercing blue eyes that sent shivers spreading all over her body. "I don't know much from scratch but I talked to Mom yester day and she gave me some ideas and then I was in the grocery store and they had everything so I thought 'why not tonight?'. If you're not up to it though, that's okay."

"Ella," he chastised gently, tugging her arm so she pressed again his chest and forced her to look up, "It smells wonderful. Can it wait until I'm in something other than my sweats? We don't exactly match."

She hadn't even noticed. Yanking her eyes away from his, she scanned his shadowed form in the weak lighting. His sweats hung low on his hips, a deep crease proving that they had been slept in for some time, and a white t-shirt skimmed the waistband. It pained her each time she noticed that his clothes didn't fit quite the way they should, evidence that he was slowly losing the muscle he had worked years for. She grinned and lifted a hand to smooth down the fringe of hair that stuck up from the crown of his head. In an attempt to remain upbeat and teasing, she ignored the dark circles under his eyes. He was right, they didn't match she realized as she looked down at her black satin dress with its bubble skirt that stopped above her knees. The neckline dipped off her shoulders, giving the illusion of straps while in reality its glove tight bodice kept it from falling down.

"Take all the time you need," she told him, running a hand down his bare arm. She couldn't have cared less about what he wore but she knew he did. Hearing the ring of the timer in the kitchen, she left for the other room while he rushed back upstairs.

Twenty minutes later, Gabriella felt a pair of cold lips press against her temple as she set a steaming plate of chicken pieces in the center of the table. Turning, she inhaled sharply, taking in the navy button down and dark washed jeans. His hair was still damp, strands finger combed away from his face. Grinning, she savoured the smell of his cologne, trying to decide if she liked it more than the one she had grown used to; the one she'd encounter when he was asleep and unaware that she was that close.

"Don't you clean up good," she giggled, straightening the collar of his shirt with trembling fingers, her touch lingering along the open line of buttons at his throat.

"It's nice to have a reason," he told her, his voice husky as the tiny flickers of the chandelier bulbs glinted in his eyes. She saw him look at the table and grin, all remnants of his earlier pain erased from the corners of his eyes and mouth. "And I'm starving."

Gabriella wavered for a moment, but he wasn't looking at her so he missed the sliver of doubt in her face before she covered it up behind a strained smile. He was rarely starving or even remotely hungry during the past weeks. He ate on a schedule, no longer trusting his body to tell him what he needed, or when those around him urged him to try something. He ate, but the bites were few and far between, his actions resembling a child who had been given broccoli and spinach but wanted the chocolate ice cream. As he circled the table, asking her to identify certain foods and their ingredients, she watched for a spark of interest-anything- that told her she had found a way in. Smoothing a wrinkle in her dress with a sweaty palm, she felt her heart jump when he looked up to find her watching him.

"What?" he asked, his forehead creased.

"Nothing," she answered, stepping closer to the table and using the tongs to lay a floured tortilla on his plate. "Sit down and tell me what you want to try. There's chicken and beef, and every topping I could think of."

He asked about her day while she made the circuit of individual bowls filled with peppers, onions, tomatoes, lettuce, cheese and homemade salsa. Placing the plate before him, she moved on to fill his bowl with chilli and another with Spanish rice before preparing her own meal. Gabriella watched from the corner of her eye as she debated over beef or chicken, something pulling in her gut as he ladled spoonfuls of chilli into his mouth. He hissed once, lowly, not expecting how hot it was. Taking the seat across from him, Gabriella stirred her rice before taking a bite, listening to Troy ramble about her cooking skills with his mouth full.

They chatted quietly about school and her mom, basketball and the book Gabriella was reading. Troy mentioned a movie he wanted to see and Gabriella told him about the horrific kung fu film that Andy had dragged her to the week before they left Stanford. The conversation was light, fun and teasing, and Gabriella found herself relaxing into the moment. More than once, her fork rested halfway between her plate and her mouth, her focus completely on Troy and the rest of the world forgotten. It was during a lull in the music, the CD stalling to be automatically changed, that Gabriella caught the first concrete hint that something was off with Troy. Something she hadn't noticed up until then.

"This is really great, Ella," he complimented, spooning another clump of pale green gunk from a near empty bowl. Gabriella nodded, enjoying his attention but having heard the same thing numerous times over the course of the hour.

"Thanks, I called my mom for the recipe-," she cut her sentence short when his actions finally registered. Her eyebrows came together, a line forming between them in confusion. "Troy, that's guacamole. You hate guacamole."

"Well, I like this," he answered her offhandedly, but Gabriella suddenly went rigid.

"No, I remember you having this conversation with your mom when she asked me about it. You said you had it once and hated the taste. You said it was indescribable and the lime juice left a sour taste in your mouth." The memory bombarded Gabriella with the exact words he had spoken, letting them spill off her tongue as she repeated it to him. "I knew you wouldn't eat it so I made it the way I like it. It's got more lime juice in it than most. You'd hate it."

She caught the guilty look in his eye at her accusing tone that was a mix between anger and hurt. She'd caught him in the lie, but she didn't know why he'd bother doing it. Her mind was working overtime, combining his earlier comment about being hungry with the way he'd been nonchalantly shovelling nachos with the green dip into his mouth only minutes before. Her brain was struggling to put together what it meant, a single missing piece the only thing stopping her from understanding. And then he reached out and plucked a pepper from his second fajita and set it on his tongue, chewing without any indication of its inherent spiciness.

"You can't taste it," she realized, her fork clattering to the plate and the hand wrapped around her water glass shaking. Quickly, she retracted both hands and gripped the arms of the chair, half rising from her seat. "You can't taste any of it, can you?" He didn't answer and tears pricked her eyes as their bubble of a perfect evening was popped and reality washed over them. "How long has it been going on?"

"It's called Ageusia," he told her quietly, his eyes filled with pain as he watched her falling apart, "It's what happens when the-"

"I know what it's called!" she yelled, pushing the chair back so it fell against the hardwood floor. Troy jumped but didn't stand with her. "I asked how long, Troy! I thought we agreed I was all the way in! I thought you agreed to tell me everything!"

"Ella, calm down," he reasoned, his voice level but his concern evident in the way he followed her clenching and unclenching hands.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" the tears were streaming down her cheeks, the full facts of the situation hitting her in the face during a moment when she least expected them. "You can't hide things like this. Maybe it's not that big of a deal to you, maybe you think it's just another symptom that is easy to hide, but it's not, Troy! It's a big fucking deal!"

"El-," she caught the tears before he looked away and she realized she was pushing too far but it hurt. It was like her heart was being ripped from her chest as he was pulled one step closer to the place beyond her reach. One step further from where she could touch him. One more harsh reminder of where they were headed. Gabriella gasped for breath, one hand in her hair and one on her cheek that felt hot enough to burn.

"You can't keep things from me. I need to know it's coming," she pleaded. Her back was against the wall to keep her upright as she tried to come down from her anger. "I need to be reminded. I need you to warn me so it's not so hard."

"It's hard for me too, El, that's why I don't tell you every time something comes up," Troy sighed, curling his fingers around an unused knife. Its silver plated edges caught the light and reflected it back upon his face. "The big things, when they come, won't be unseen or a secret; you'll see them. The little things though? Those I can shove to the back and forget they exist. We can pretend they're not there."

"I just wanted to do something different for you," she choked out, trying to get the words out past the lump in her throat. "I wanted to see you enjoy it and know that I did that."

"But Baby, I did enjoy it. I don't have to taste it to enjoy the fact that you went through all that effort. Knowing how happy it made you was all worth it, that's why I didn't tell you," he explained. "I just wanted to get through one night without having it thrown in our faces."

"Me too," she whispered. "But it's always there, like that feeling when you know someone is watching you but when you turn around, you see nothing. You say it's hard for you, and I know it is- how could it not?- but I'm not scared about the now. I'm scared about the after. I'm scared to know that someday you won't-," she lost all control then, sliding down the wall until her arms curled around her knees and sobs shook her shoulders that were freckled with goosebumps.

Gabriella didn't hear the chair scrape back, or his footsteps on the floor, but she felt the rush of warmth as Troy dropped down beside her. He didn't say anything, but his arm curled behind her back and pulled her closer until she was in his lap with her face pressed under his jaw. Gabriella's sobs had calmed to silent tears and trembling hands that reached around Troy's neck to toy absently with the hair that brushed the collar of his shirt as his hands rubbed up and down the sides of her dress. The music in the living room died as the four CDs completed their run, the silence crushing down on the couple in the next room as they clung to each other amidst billows of satin.

She wouldn't know who initiated it, but at some point, Troy's caresses became fierce and frantic while Gabriella's fingers stopped their gently massage and dug into his scalp. The salt from her tears dried on her cheeks as her lips seared the tender flesh beneath his jaw and ear. Suddenly she was spun in his lap, her dress riding up to expose her thighs in the poor lighting, and his hands searched blindly beneath the folds of fabric until the gripped her hips. Her hands drew identical paths down both sides of his face, her thumbs rubbing out the bruised circles under his eyes as blood rushed to fill both of their cheeks.

Her heart sped up to a chaotic beat as she bent her head into the kiss. Lips fused together, Gabriella felt herself pushing Troy harder against the wall as her hands gripped the shoulders beneath his shirt. His head tilted up and their pants slowed until they found themselves breathing in unison as Troy gained entrance to Gabriella's mouth and she bit back a tiny sound of pleasure. Troy pulled her hips flush against his and Gabriella felt hot all over.

"Not here," she gasped, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. "It can't be-, I won't let it happen here."

"You're right," he agreed, sliding his hands out and standing so abruptly that only his arm kept Gabriella from tumbling onto the ground. Yanking her towards him by the upper arm, she didn't even feel the bruising as she looked up to see his navy eyes almost black as the pupils expanded and dilated. "Upstairs, then."

"Hurry," she pleaded, her entire body temperature dropping by degrees as the loss of contact with him lasted longer than a few seconds.

Gabriella felt the air contract and expand between them. Breathing became difficult, but not impossible as she followed Troy up the stairs, stumbling when they stopped midway to pull his shirt over his head. It fell to the floor without a sound, a breadcrumb leading away from reality. Her patterned black tights followed, floating to create a filmy puddle of black on the white carpet of the top step. Outside the door to Troy's room, she slammed him against the wall. His white wife beater tangled around their feet as the door swung open and they tumbled inside.

The only light was a desk lamp, its shade casting a perfect circle of light on the center of the bed. Gabriella only glimpsed it for a second before Troy's fingers were clawing at the clasp of her dress to undo the zipper. It let go with a pop, the fabric slipping down her curves without any effort at all, leaving her in lacy black underwear and strapless bra. She yanked the clip from her hair, letting the tresses tumble down her back to Troy's delight. He gathered handfuls of it to let slip between his outstretched fingers, his behaviour childlike as he revelled in its silkiness before gathering it up and pulling her head to his. Together, they fell backwards onto the green sheeted bed, never losing awareness of where the other was.

His mouth was everywhere, his hands never leaving her skin, and Gabriella could barely keep track of the minutes as they passed. Their actions slowed as the pillows were tossed aside, becoming less frantic and hurried, slowing to a languid and savouring pace. Her fingers traced every inch of him, beginning at his face and ending beyond his hips once his pants and boxers joined her bra and panties on the floor of his room.

Time meant nothing to them. Outside, it ticked towards midnight, while inside they were suspended. Nothing could separate them. Nothing could threaten. Cancer didn't exist and it certainly didn't progress. When Gabriella had tasted each part of him, when she knew she could identify him in the dark with her eyes shut, she slipped beneath him and cupped his face with her raised hands. He paused in his ministrations, planting his hands on either side of her head and dipping to capture her lips. Pure pleasure rolled through her, and the pace quickened as each fought to cling to the moment while reaching for the satisfaction the other kept just out of reach.

"What are you waiting for?" Gabriella asked, gritting her teeth so she could get the words out without purring.

"It needs to be perfect," he told her, breathing heavily as his mouth forced her head back and found her collar bone. "You deserve perfect."

"I've already got it," she assured him, letting her gaze pierce into him to he knew she didn't lie. "This is as perfect as it gets."

"Make a wish first," Troy whispered, hovering above her.

"What?" Gabriella followed his gaze to the clock with its blurry red numbers. 11:58.

"It's almost New Years. You need to make a wish." She continued to stare as he murmured in her hair. 11:59.

"I wish you could give me forever," she told him. 12:00.

He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. As she whispered the time honoured greeting of the New Year in his ear, he slid inside her. On the bed, in his room, in an otherwise empty house, Gabriella lost herself in the belief that they could find forever in each other. Long after midnight had passed, and with it the rush of new beginnings, long after Troy had unwound his limbs from hers and cradled her head against his chest so that she could hear his heart drumming under his ribs like rain on a metal roof, Gabriella clung to forever.


	7. PART VII

_**AN: **__Sorry this is so late going out but with exams and Christmas travels, things have been crazy. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. A couple of people have asked about my other stories and they are not necessarily on hiatus because I've been working on them, but they won't be updated until this is finished. Enjoy. I hope you'll all see the reason I decided to update tonight, and if you see any grammar errors PM me because I made some last minute changes and may have missed some things. You're all fabulous._

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

* * *

~*~

* * *

**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART SEVEN**

"_Like the lighthouse on the coast." _

_-I Need You, Faith Hill & Tim McGraw_

* * *

_January_

The sun had risen by the time Gabriella woke the following morning. Grinning to herself as she stretched and flexed her toes against the legs wedged between her knees, she felt the person behind her shift slightly before burying his face in her neck. Shivering in the cold room, where the curtains remained closed to shut out the sunlight, Gabriella clutched the dark sheets to her chest and turned to press herself into Troy's blistering hot chest. His arm slipped lower on her back under the sheet and she could feel his splayed fingers tapping out a beat to an unknown song.

Gabriella basked in the glow that fluttered in her stomach. She could recall every second from the night before. Every rushed kiss and every savoured caress, each word and each pleasurable touch, were seared into her mind. Troy's fingers had moved to her hair and she could feel him winding individual strands around his fingers. She closed her eyes, snuggling closer. The day would be perfect if they could be allowed to stay exactly as they were without interruptions, but Gabriella knew it would never happen.

The Boltons were due home from the hotel just after lunch and Andy had organized the semi-traditional three-on-three basketball tournament that took place in the backyard court any year that it was possible. Troy had explained the day before that it usually included their friends and some of the seniors from his father's high school team. Lucille and Jack would barbeque and stuff them all full of food before sending them home sometime before midnight as the last big event before school started. Just thinking of that minute detail made Gabriella's stomach curl. She had a decision to make and although she knew what it would be, it wasn't what she wanted but what everyone else did.

"We should get up," Troy mumbled in her ear, letting his hands slip away from her body to stretch his arms above the bed. Gabriella grunted an undistinguishable response, her face still turned towards his bare chest and unable to be seen from his position. She felt him lift himself on one elbow while one hand brushed against the curls on her forehead. "El? What are you thinking about?"

Gabriella bit her lip, deciding if now was the time. Sighing, she rolled onto her back, sheets still clutched to cover her. Looking up into Troy's face, she felt that she knew it as much as she knew her own. His eyes were bright, his cheeks holding color. It was a good day and she didn't want to risk adding tension to what was pulsing between them.

"School," she finally whispered softly, "And how I don't want to go."

He didn't say anything, simply flopping onto his back, joining her as she stared at the ceiling coated in childish glow-in-the-dark stars. Andy had announced his decision to take the semester off and remain in Albuquerque until the following fall at the dinner table during Christmas dinner. No one had protested against it, understanding that nothing would change his mind. Stanford would always be there, the Dean had assured him of that when he contacted the school days after returning home, but Troy would not and so everyone had nodded their heads and continued to compliment Lucille's apple pie. Gabriella had heard Troy comment on it a couple of times since, feeling guilty that his brother's life was being put on hold, but Andy had told him that school was less important at the moment.

Gabriella felt the same. She didn't want to go to school, miles away, and be connected only by phone calls. Without Andy and his SUV there, getting to Albuquerque would be an expensive and inconvenient task. She couldn't bear to think that she would spend the majority of the next few months in a place that didn't have Troy. She also knew that Troy wouldn't hear of her doing anything but returning. Turning her head, she watched the contemplative look on his face. It wasn't peaceful or thoughtful, but rather she could tell he was arranging words in his head so that what he had to say came out right.

"I don't want you to go either," he told her, looking away from the ceiling now that the conversation was taking place. "But I need you to."

"Why? Andy's taking the semester off, why can't I do the same?" Gabriella turned onto her side and propped her head with her hand. Neither of them were yelling, it would never come to that because she knew in the end she would give him what he wanted. She just hoped she could convince him to want something different. Troy sighed, shifting so that there was a strip of mattress running between them; separating them.

"Andy's not on a full-ride scholarship. You are and I cannot expect nor allow you to give that up to spend the next couple of months sitting around the house with me," Troy told her patiently while her lowered eyelashes hid the flooding frustration in her eyes.

"There are ways to put off the scholarship," Gabriella argued softly. "The school makes exceptions. I can do classes online for the semester and make up the credits I would need for next September. I don't need to go back to Stanford."

"No," Troy replied, his tone firm and sharp. "You need something other than this house. I cannot be that selfish and demand every minute of your time. You need an escape, El, from all of the baggage the next few months are going to dump on you. You need to go back to Stanford."

"I need you," Gabriella shot back, her eyes black with repressed emotion.

He just couldn't figure out how much she needed him before he was ripped away. He couldn't understand that she drew her strength from his acceptance. That it was him who kept her from throwing things through the wall or screaming in rage at the unfairness of life. He was the only thing keeping her from losing her mind. Sighing, Gabriella closed her eyes and rested her cheek against Troy's chest, letting the drumming of his heart ease away her building anger. Troy's fingers cupped her chin and pulled her face up to meet his eyes.

"I know you do," he answered her gently, his face a mixture of sadness and desperation, "And that's why I need you to go. I need to know that you have something other than me to focus on. I need to know you'll be strong when everything falls apart."

Gabriella nodded, her eyes closed, feeling as he lay down beside her. She could feel his gaze trail along her profile, his fingertips tracing the cheekbone closest to him. The discussion was closed, the decision reached, and Gabriella would go because it was what he wanted. She would hide her anxiety and her fear and the tears. She would hide the way her hands wanted to curl around his wrist and remain there until someone pried them apart. She would ignore the building ache in her heart as she began making a mental list of what needed to be packed before class began in five days. Noticing how Troy's touch had stopped and his hand now rested across her hips, Gabriella let his even breathing lull her back into sleep where everything was easily forgotten and reality didn't hurt as much.

~*~

Time blurred into rushing minutes as the early days of the new year headed towards the commencement of classes at Stanford. It was considered decided and for the sake of not fighting with Troy, Gabriella kept her thoughts of staying to herself and carried on as if everything was going according to plan. She paid her tuition electronically and called to let her dorm mate know when she would be returning. Her class schedule was double and triple checked and a morning class changed to the afternoon. The manager at the campus coffee shop where she worked was emailed to tell him to put her on the weekend schedule for the next week. A list of everything that needed to be done before leaving Albuquerque was made and on Wednesday, Troy accompanied her around town as she picked up necessities she would need to take back with her.

It was the first time since the morning of New Year's Day that they had spent more than an hour in each other's company and although Gabriella hated how they were spending it, she didn't have it in her to side with his mother and tell him to stay home and take it easy. New Years Eve had taught Gabriella that despite the brave facade that Troy put up for everyone, his health was failing and it made her hyper aware to everything he did. Promising herself to never be broadsided again by lurking symptoms, she found herself able to pick up on the slightest wince of discomfort and the most miniscule dizzy spell. More often than not, if Troy said nothing about it, she let it be and simply waited for it to pass. Other times, when she was afraid he was pushing it, she would lightly suggest a break from whatever they were doing. However, with a few hours of freedom from his parents and their house within her grasp, Gabriella decided not to comment on his off balanced steps and let him follow her to the SUV parked in the driveway. She was leaving in three days and the two of them deserved to be selfish for a little while.

Pushing an undersized shopping cart down the aisle of the local drug store after already completing her errands at the grocery store for snacks, the bank to deposit cheques from her mother, and Wal-Mart for cheaply priced scribblers, Gabriella paused and contemplated the shelves of hair care products. She hid a smirk when she saw Troy sigh and purse his lips to blow his bangs out of his face, making sure to take extra long while picking up individual bottles of mousse and cream and gel before setting them back down again. A giggle escaped at Troy's groan.

"I don't understand what the issue is," he complained, his chin resting in his hand that was propped up on the handle of the cart. "It's just shampoo."

"You're such a guy," Gabriella chirped, reading over the directions on the back of a pink bottle promising to give her volume and shine. "I could want curly hair or straight hair or spiked hair."

"Of course," Troy drawled, boredom on his face, "And what a crisis that would be."

Tossing her choices into the basket of the cart, Gabriella led Troy to the next aisle to add a few other selections before finding themselves in the candy section. Choosing a bag of JubeJubes for the car ride and two other bags of treats to stash away in her dorm room for study sessions, Gabriella began mentally calculating her expenses as they aimed the cart towards the checkout. Seeing a few people in the line ahead of her and Troy, Gabriella moved everything from the basket of the cart to her arms and then looked for a place to leave the bulky object.

"Troy, can you push this to the next cashier for me where that other lady has left hers?" Gabriella asked quietly, indicating the next register over with her free hand and gesturing to the shopping cart that Troy was leaning on. "I can just carry everything."

"If you only needed five things, why did we go through the hassle of finding a parking spot beside a shopping cart chorale because you insisted we would need one?" Troy queried, slightly annoyed when he recalled the extra fifteen minutes spent driving around the parking lot earlier.

"I thought if you got tired, it would give you something to lean on," Gabriella shrugged, her voice even and patient as she waited for him to shove the cart away, grumbling under his breath. When he returned, glaring, she rolled her eyes at the indignation on his face. "You keep tuning out your mom whenever she mentions getting a cane, so don't act so offended when I try to work with you."

"I'm not using a stupid cane," He hissed as they shuffled forward a few steps as the line moved ahead. "I know my own limitations and I know how I feel. I wish everyone would stop treating me like a child."

"Troy, relax. I'm not telling you to use the stupid cane." Gabriella cut her sentence short as the lady in front of her bid farewell to the young cashier.

Flashing the girl who looked to be about her age a bright smile, Gabriella placed her items one by one next to the scanner and dug into her purse to bring out her wallet. After paying and inserting her debit card back into its proper place, she gathered up the handles of the bag containing her goodies and thanked the girl. Troy was waiting for her by the exit door a few feet away, his usual good humour replaced by a glower and deep navy eyes that hid his frustration behind a biting tongue. He reaching for her shopping bag but Gabriella shook her head with a light smile and stuffed it into her oversized purse. She retrieved the car keys from her pocket as they approached the SUV in the lot and a quick beep let Troy know she had unlocked the passenger door.

"So I need to hit the bookstore and see if I can find some of my textbooks at a cheaper price before buying them on campus, and then I'm ready to head home," Gabriella chattered as she brought the seat belt across her chest and clicked it into place. "Was there anywhere you wanted to go?"

"Actually, I want to go home," he told her, his voice holding an edge that made her glance at him sharply. His jaw was tight and it looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek the way one would if they were trying not to swear. Dropping her gaze to where his was focused, she saw the way his fingers failed to grip the seat belt properly as he struggled to coordinate the buckle into place.

"You sure?" she asked, trying to sound casual as she yanked her eyes away when he finally succeeded and looked up. "We could go grab coffee or-"

"El?" he called to her softly, his voice losing its sharpness for a moment, "It's okay. I just need a break. Can we go home and I'll come back out with you later?"

"Yeah, of course," she told him quietly.

Turning the key in the ignition, she avoided his gaze by focusing on checking her mirrors and her blind spots. When she had backed the SUV from the parking space, she shoved the gear shift into drive and took her foot off the break. A warm touch brought her gaze to the back of her hand where Troy's hand rested over hers. Looking up, she read his apology in his expression and returned it with a weak smile of her own. It wasn't his fault, but she knew there was no point trying to convince him of anything otherwise.

~*~

A soft knock on the door interrupted Gabriella the day before she left for Stanford. Her two suitcases lay open on the bed, half-filled with clothing and accessories, while a stack of clean laundry sat on the chair to the desk. Books were piled on the desk beside her open shoulder bag containing her iPod, a magazine and her cell phone. Teasing the hair between her hair elastic and her scalp, Gabriella paused in repacking her makeup into a carry case and looked over her shoulder to see Andy standing in the hallway, his fist raised to deliver another tap.

"Hey," she called, her voice tired from sleepless nights since the one spent in Troy's arms. Her hands full of eyeliner pencils and lipgloss tubes, she rubbed at her forehead with the crook of her arm as Andy took her greeting to mean acceptance in her room. He opened the door all the way and surveyed the room that was strewn with her belongings. "Did you need something? I found that book you were asking about and left it on the kitchen table earlier."

"I got it, thanks," he replied quietly, his eyes following her fluid movements as she finished with the makeup pouch and nestled it in among her underwear and pyjamas. Her eyes met his as she turned from shoving socks into any vacant spaces among her jeans and sweaters. "I just came up to tell you that I know you don't want to go and if you ever want me to come get you, all you need to do is call."

Gabriella nodded, her lashes lowered as she toyed with the hair straightener that she had picked up from the dresser. Troy had been the one to bring up the fact that she was returning to Stanford for the winter semester during the basketball barbeque on New Year's Day. It had been casual, a nonchalant query to Jack to see if he would be able to drive her the weekend before classes began both at the university and at East High. Lucille and Jack had both covered their slight surprise well, although Jack took a moment to answer and Lucille had locked gazes with Gabriella for a handful of moments before the younger girl looked away. It had been enough of an analysis for Lucille to understand that it was Troy's decision, something that came up repeatedly in the household as the holidays crept away and a routine once again took over. Andy had been especially quiet and Gabriella wondered what he thought of her returning to their school, their friends and their classes without him.

"Gabriella," Andy called softly and she instinctly looked up. His eyes were shadowed and she wondered if they could ever be in the same room again without feeling like they were holding onto something fragile. "I mean it. If you need anything, just call. I'll come get you or find a flight. He's only making you go because he's scared."

"So am I," Gabriella whispered, her fingers robotically wrapping the cord around the hair appliance. "I'm afraid he'll go downhill so fast that I won't recognize him the next time I see him. I'm afraid that he'll die while I'm in California and that I won't have said goodbye. I'm afraid that I'll get to school and not want to come back because it will be easier to forget what's happening if I'm that far away."

"There's nothing shameful about being scared," Andy told her, reaching out without her asking to zip up the now full suitcase as Gabriella sat down on the bed next to the remaining luggage yet to be filled. "I'd be worried if you weren't, but for Troy, this is about protecting you."

"He shouldn't be worried about me," she insisted. Taking a breath, she caught Andy by the wrist and forced him to catch the frantic need in her eyes. "Promise me that if anything happens, you'll call me?"

"Of course," Andy agreed, moving towards the doorway. He stopped, looking back over his shoulder where Gabriella had resumed laying her things inside the luggage. Gabriella saw the conflicting emotions on his face, but noticed with satisfaction and comfort that concern and understanding overrode anything else she would have expected to see. "Dad wanted me to tell you that we're leaving before six tomorrow morning; he'll pack the SUV tonight when you're ready. I'll let you tell Troy."

Andy shut the door softly behind him with a click, leaving Gabriella to reach for the bag containing her jewellery. Reaching inside, she pulled out the box containing her charm bracelet and placed it in an inside pocket of her carry bag before putting the box in the suitcase with everything else. Zipping it shut, Gabriella shuddered at the sound that echoed in her empty room.

~*~

The interstate flashed by Gabriella's window as Jack drove the SUV towards Stanford that Friday morning. The clock on the dashboard told her it was just past lunch and the cellphone in her hand told her she had five missed calls, three voicemails and nine text messages from Troy. He was mad. That was clear the moment she had clicked on the first text only to have her soft smile slapped off by his note of '_Thanks for the fucking goodbye'_. Snapping the phone closed, Gabriella had decided she wouldn't read the rest until she was in her dorm room and capable of calling him back with some privacy.

She hadn't told him they were leaving before breakfast. After Andy had left her to finish packing, she had taken her luggage down to the garage and tossed it into the trunk. Troy had been at Chad's to say goodbye to a few friends who were heading back to school in various states across the country, and therefore had no reason to question the scheduled departure for the next morning. He had returned home for dinner, where the five of them ate and chatted about the championship game coming up at East High near the middle of the month, and then he and Gabriella had watched a movie on the couch in the living room. She contemplated telling him repeatedly over the course of the evening, but it seemed too final. She wanted to leave with the obvious intent of coming back and saying goodbye went against that idea. So instead, she let Troy kiss her gently before ducking into his room for the night, and when Lucille woke her at sunrise, Gabriella gathered her things and went to his bedroom across the hall. For a moment, she watched him as she had on Christmas Day, knowing full well it could be the last time but praying it wasn't. Then she had kissed his forehead and whispered in his ear, hurrying from the room before he woke.

The phonecalls and the texts had been expected. She knew he would be angry, but it didn't seem to matter. He wanted her to leave and she had done it, returning to a place that no longer held her interest, but she had left on her own terms. Her phone vibrated again and she hit the ignore button without glancing at it, noting that Andy turned around from the front seat with a questioning look as he heard the vibrations of the device.

"He keeps texting me," Andy told her, his voice hard and empty. "I told you to tell him."

"And I'll take the blame," Gabriella snapped back as she dropped her phone into the hidden depths of her bag on the seat beside her. "I wasn't going to say goodbye. Not yet. Not this soon. He will not have a reason to give up by saying that we said everything that needed to be said."

"Gabriella," Jack sighed from the driver's seat and her eyes snapped to the left, "What if he-"

"No," she bit out harshly, her arms crossed to keep her hands from trembling and her head flung back against the headrest of the seat. "This will not be goodbye."

Ahead of them, the highway stretched and Gabriella fought the urge to turn around to see the direction in which she had come and from which she was gradually getting further away. Setting her jaw, she repeated her argument in her head. He wouldn't let this be their goodbye. She was counting on his stubbornness to make his health last long enough to give them more time. It was a gamble, but she wasn't ready to give him up and if it meant making him pissed off enough to live a few months just to yell at her when she returned home, she could live with that.

~*~

The first official day of the semester slid by easier than Gabriella had imagined. She had arrived at Stanford on Sunday afternoon after driving straight from Albuquerque while stopping only to change drivers and eat. Jack and Andy had stayed long enough to carry her things upstairs, sign some paperwork left for Andy at the security office, and say goodbye before climbing in the SUV and beginning the drive back. They had spent the night in a hotel near the border and then called her around noon on Monday to let her know they had gotten home safely.

In the meantime, Gabriella had called to let Lucille know that everything was working and on schedule and then spent an hour on the phone being yelled at by Troy who hung up on her twice, only to call her back three minutes later and yell some more. He had been calmer when she answered his sixth call that came on Sunday night, and they had actually managed to get everything out without crying or screaming. By the time she told him she loved him and they mutually agreed to end the phonecall, Gabriella had convinced herself that she could handle the distance and school, and Troy was convinced that she wasn't having second thoughts and had no regrets.

By the time her 11o'clock class rolled around on Monday morning, Gabriella had managed to find a sort of inner peace that allowed her function. That day she answered the professor's request of naming the multiple parts of the human brain projected onto the gigantic screen at the front of the room when he selected her randomly from his class list, and she politely introduced herself to the couple on her left who asked if she had purchased the textbook for the class yet and how much it had cost. She kept to herself that afternoon when she wandered into the dining hall to grab an apple and some yogurt after passing over the macaroni and the potato soup. Her roommate offered her a wave from a table in the corner but Gabriella just shook her head and tapped her watch before hurrying back to their dorm. She made sure to leave with plenty of time to get to her second and final class of the day.

Monday night saw Gabriella calling Troy for a quick chat. He asked her about her classes and her friends but beneath his interest and forced enthusiasm for her, Gabriella could pick up on his fatigue. When she questioned him about it, he merely mentioned that he had taken something to help with the persistent dizzy spells. They talked about the Lakers/Knicks game that had been on the night before until Andy and Jack arrived home and assured Gabriella that they were in one piece. When she hung up, with the clock beside her flashing two hours to midnight, Gabriella sighed and rolled over in her bed as she tried to focus on what classes she had on Tuesday instead of worrying about the listlessness in Troy's voice. She faked sleep when her roommate stumbled through the door an hour later.

The rest of the first few weeks of January continued with the same schedule. Gabriella went to class and to the library. In the evening, she did homework before calling Albuquerque and talking to Troy. Sometimes she talked to Andy, other times Lucille or Jack would answer and they would chat for a few moments before handing the phone over to Troy. A few times he would be sleeping and Gabriella would leave a message and he would call her the next morning before class. On Wednesday afternoons and Friday and Saturday nights she worked at the bookstore five blocks from campus. It was a boring existence, she wouldn't deny that fact, but it was how she made it through the days.

Her friends had heard from Andy's friends about their breakup and subsequently they learned about Troy. During the first few days of being back on campus, Gabriella had been polite in answering their questions. She had diplomatically told them that she and Andy had been in different places; that their minds were on other things than each other. When curiosity turned into an interrogation for messy details, Gabriella had become slightly annoyed. The weekend after Christmas Break, the group of students had convinced her to join them after work for coffee, only to spend the entire time discussing Andy's decision to not return to school. Gabriella had walked out after an hour and spent the next week avoiding the gossip. Although her anxiety of being separated from Troy lessened when it wasn't being thrown in her face constantly, her mission to avoid her friends unless necessary meant more time spent by herself.

The last week of January proved to be the beginning of the undoing of Gabriella's carefully constructed bubble. That Thursday night, she stumbled into her room after a long afternoon of researching in the library and dumped her books and papers on her desk in a precarious pile before heading to her closet. Stripping off her boots and skinny jeans, she wriggled out of her uncomfortable bodice enhanced blouse that she was constantly afraid would be ruined, and slid into sweats and a hoodie. Padding across the floor in her sock feet, Gabriella pulled open a drawer in her desk to find a hair clip to throw her hair up with. Slamming the drawer shut, the vibrations caused the uneven pile of homework to tumble from its unsteady position.

"Damn," Gabriella hissed to herself as she crouched down to pick up the mess.

Taking her time, Gabriella pulled the books from the pile and carefully stacked them in a pyramid before sliding them under the desk. Sorting through the loose papers, she tucked them inside their proper folders before placing the folders in the appropriate slot on the top shelf of the desk where she would look for them later. Bending down to retrieve the final object on the floor, Gabriella paused at the opened day planner on the floor. Sitting back on her heels, she flipped past the current week and examined the two that followed. Her eyebrows pulling together as she thought, Gabriella reached above her for the binder that held all of her syllabuses for the term. Glancing back and forth between the two objects, she found herself grinning. Without thinking, she reached for the phone.

"Lucille?" Gabriella gushed when she heard the older woman's voice on the other line pick up. "Is Troy there?"

"Gabriella, honey," Lucille greeted her warmly but Gabriella picked up on an element of caution that she'd never heard before. "He's here, but now may not be such a great time. It's been a rough day and he's in a pretty snarky mood."

"Oh," Gabriella replied, her heart squeezing as she forced false cheer into her words, "That's okay, I have something to tell him that will cheer him up."

"I'm really not sure...," Lucille trailed off as Gabriella interrupted insistently.

"Please, let me try," she pleaded.

There was a pause while Lucille debated whether or not to give into Gabriella and then she agreed quietly before Gabriella heard her leave whichever room she had been in and climb the stairs to the next floor. A soft knock was heard on the door, followed by another, and then a louder one that made Gabriella frown. Troy was ignoring his mother, she learned as Lucille muttered under her breath before giving another loud knock and simply walking into the room without an invitation. There was an exchange of words that made Gabriella worry that she shouldn't have pressed the issue, and then Lucille's voice came clearly through the line.

"Gabriella wants to talk to you, the least you can do is be polite." Lucille's voice contained more than a hint of annoyance. There was more grumbling and by the time Troy barked a greeting into the phone, Gabriella's heart was racing.

"Hey!" she said, her sweaty palms gripping the receiver tightly as she struggled to sound enthusiastic and upbeat. "Guess what?"

"How about you just tell me," Troy answered, sounding exasperated. "It won't take as long that way."

"Oh, well uh- I was looking through my planner and I figured out that-," Gabriella stuttered, taken aback by the abruptness he was showing her. "Well, I don't have any assignments due during the next two weeks that I haven't already finished. I'm all caught up on readings and my group assignment isn't meeting until the middle of next month."

"That's all very exciting, El, but I don't get what it has to do with me." Troy's voice was harsh and biting, ripping through Gabriella's heart and causing her hands to shake.

"Well, I was thinking I could plan to spend the weekend in Albuquerque," she began, hating that her voice had lost its cheeriness and now sounded desperate. "I could get tomorrow and Saturday off of work and leave tomorrow right after my morning class."

There was a pause where the only way Gabriella knew Troy was still on the line was his breathing against the mouthpiece of the phone. Her breath hitched as the silence stretched and he failed to say anything. Tears burned behind her lids and she chastised the tightening feeling that was occurring in her chest. She didn't understand what was happening, why he was acting so different. When he spoke again, his voice was softer and less hard, but the words still hurt.

"No, El," he told her. "Don't come."

"But, I thought-," Gabriella struggled to find the words, "It'd just be the weekend. It wouldn't be very long just Saturday and some of Sunday morning, but it would be-."

"I said no." Troy sighed and Gabriella could picture him rubbing his neck. "Not right now. Things are just-Now isn't a good time."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked timidly.

"Have a good week, Ella." Then he hung up.

Gabriella stared at the phone in her hand stupidly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. He was rejecting her? But why? He hadn't even sounded like Troy. The person on the phone had sounded bitter and resentful and angry. Her Troy had never spoken to her like that; she hadn't even known it was in him to speak like that to anyone. Curling up on her bed, the agenda abandoned on the desk, Gabriella pulled the comforter under her chin and clutched the phone in her hand as her thumb hovered over the speed dial digit she hadn't used in weeks. Feeling a sob bubble in her throat as she remembered the conversation from just minutes ago, she hit the button and squeezed the speaker to her ear, waiting for the person on the other end to pick up.

"Andy? What happened to him? It's like talking to a stranger."

~*~

It was a combination of new drugs and the growing tumour. Andy explained it to her gently that Thursday night as Gabriella softly cried into her pillow. He told her that the mood swings had been appearing on and off over the last few days, lingering when Troy was tired or suffering from a headache. Thursday had been particularly frustrating when a dizzy spell lasted over thirty minutes and forced Troy to ask for help getting up from the couch to use the bathroom. It had soured his mood and increased the possibility of him verbally lashing out. The doctors had told Lucille that the mood swings would subside as Troy adjusted to the new medications.

On Friday, Gabriella devoted her afternoon to researching Troy's type of tumour online, steeling herself for what the professionals predicted for most patients and arming herself with what could be done to help. She read up on every prescription she knew he had been given, and made notes to ask Lucille about others that seemed less harmful but that hadn't been suggested. The knowledge made her calmer, helping when she called the Bolton house again on Friday night. Troy was apologetic for the first hour of the conversation until Gabriella mentioned her new lab partner for chemistry, at which point he became rude and judgemental about the 'intentions' of Jude Spears. Gabriella kept her temper at bay until she knew the call needed to end.

She didn't call on Saturday and she didn't bother asking for Troy on Sunday afternoon when she rang the house again. She chatted with Lucille about classes and hung up after asking her to deliver a message to Troy when he woke up. When he didn't call Sunday night or Monday, Gabriella began to feel something between anger and desperation. She wanted him to call to push aside her irrational fears that something was wrong, but she didn't want another terse conversation where he treated her like an annoying relative he was forced to be polite with. Troy managed to time his call on Tuesday to occur in the middle of her American Media Ethics class so that Gabriella left the auditorium to find a voicemail on her cell. It was brief, consisting of him apologizing for being a jerk, asking her to bear with him, and to call him later. When she called that evening, he didn't pick up the phone.

School began to suffer as January ended and February began. It started out innocently enough so that even Gabriella wasn't aware it was happening. She would skip a question in an assignment and forget to go back and finish it. A reading for in-class discussion wasn't finished so that parts of the lecture didn't make sense. A paper instructed to be 1,500 to 2,000 words would be concluded at 1,450. The more Gabriella became aware of it, the more she simply told herself that the work was being done, just not perfectly and not beyond what was expected of her. It was a slippery slope.

Gabriella skipped a class to work on a paper she had left to the last minute. Her lab report wasn't formatted properly. She only studied half the material for her midterm. When she got back the test with a B on it, she finally opened her eyes to what was happening. A B was considered perfectly acceptable work, but Gabriella hadn't earned a B on a midterm since her freshmen year of high school when her principal made her take introductory French. Preparing her speech for Troy in her head, Gabriella clutched the test in her hand as she made her way back to the dorms on the Wednesday afternoon in mid-February. It was Andy who picked up after four rings.

"I need to see him." Gabriella switched gears the moment she realized Troy wasn't going to answer the phone. "I don't care if he's pissed off. I don't care if he's angrier than a hornet. I need to see him before I go insane."

"I agree." Andy's ready acknowledgement of the situation wasn't expected and Gabriella hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Okay, then." She puffed out her cheeks and then blew out the air. "I'm glad you understand."

"I'll arrange it with Mom and Dad. Can you get the bus on Friday? Call me with the arrival time and I will pick you up at the station." His voice was so precise and level that Gabriella felt the tension and anxiety streaming out of her so that she finally relaxed in her seat. "And Gab? He won't be mad for very long."

"How is he?" she asked, the adrenaline she had worked up to get her through talking to Troy leaving her when she recognized an ally. "Be honest."

"I think reality is catching up with him and he's not taking it very well," Andy sighed. "We can't get him to leave the house; not even to go to Chad's. He won't do the steps unless it's absolutely necessary or mom throws a fit. Last week Dad tried to get him to work on the truck but he wouldn't even go near the garage. I think he needs to see you too."

"I'll call when I book my ticket," Gabriella assured him, her hand already covering the mouse as she clicked open the internet browser window.

Hanging up the phone, Gabriella booked her ticket to Albuquerque. Sliding the mouse down, it hovered over the spot to book a return ticket. Biting her lip, Gabriella moved passed it and onto the payment section of the procedure. Despite knowing that it would be extra money to leave her plans open-ended, she couldn't bring herself to plan her departure.

~*~

Andy met her at the bus station at 7 o'clock in the morning on Saturday after a nineteen hour drive with fifteen stops in between. Gabriella hadn't slept at all, her mind being focused on seeing Troy while fighting with paranoid thoughts of weirdoes taking over the bus and driving them into a secluded part of the desert never to be seen again. She had accepted her luggage from the bus driver and hauled the one suitcase behind out of the building and into the rising morning sun when she recognized the SUV waiting at the curb. Andy adjusted his baseball cap over his shaggy hair before taking her bag and tossing it in the backseat. Gabriella buckled her seat belt without a word, waiting for Andy to speak once he turned the SUV around and headed for the East district of town.

"Mom promised breakfast would be ready when we got home," Andy told Gabriella as he signalled a lane change. "She's been struggling to keep it a secret the last couple of days, but she's really happy you're coming."

"Me too," Gabriella answered quietly, concerned at the dark circles under Andy's eyes. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," he admitted, glancing at her for a moment. "Things have been a little volatile lately because even though we know it's not his fault, it's a little difficult to be barked at constantly without saying something back eventually. It's getting better though. Troy's grouchy, but it's more predictable and he doesn't switch personalities as quick anymore. You have some warning."

"But he doesn't know I'm coming?" she asked, seeking clarification so that she could predict a reaction.

"No," Andy admitted. "Dad thought we should, but Mom thinks seeing you may shock him out of his funk."

Lapsing back into silence, Gabriella recalled the last time they had made a similar drive to the Bolton house and how much had changed since those days before Christmas. Steeling herself as the vehicle pulled into the driveway, Gabriella followed Andy into the house. Passing the living room and the dining room, she shivered at the chill that rested in the air. The television in the living room was black, something that seemed unnatural to Gabriella who had grown used to it being constantly tuned to the sports channel over Christmas break. The back corner of the room seemed dull and empty without the sparkle of the Christmas tree or the candelabra on the windowsill. When Andy touched her elbow, Gabriella was pulled back to the attention of the kitchen down the hall where she could smell eggs and bacon.

Lucille's face lit up when Gabriella stepped through the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron to hug the younger girl. Jack folded up the newspaper and laid it on the table before standing, a grin on his lips as he welcomed her brightly. Despite the cheerful smiles and warm welcomes, Gabriella could see the strain on their faces and noticed the new grey hairs on their heads. Lucille's movements at the stove seemed slightly robotic and Jack looked tired. Taking in the absence of the other person in the house, Gabriella offered Lucille a questioning look laced with disappointment that was returned with a short nod and a look of sadness.

"I heard him go to the bathroom about an hour ago and went up to see if he'd come down," Lucille told Gabriella softly, pushing eggs around the frying pan with a spatula. "He told me he wasn't hungry and then asked if Jack knew what time the game was on."

"He won't leave the room at all?" Gabriella asked, her voice surprised at the proof that Andy hadn't been exaggerating. "Is he eating at all?"

"Sometimes," Jack cut in, "Like last night, but it took Andy and I guilting him into joining us for a family meal."

Gabriella had heard enough. Mood swings were one thing. They were a natural progression of the tumour and they were expected although unpleasant. Depression was a realistic occurrence given that control was no longer in Troy's grasp. What his parents and brother were describing was something entirely unrecognizable to Gabriella. It didn't sound like her Troy at all; the boy who snowboarded until his cheeks were numb or played basketball until sweat rolled off him. The Troy she knew should be fighting and if he wouldn't fight his disease for more time, she would fight with him until he did.

"Can I have a plate, please?" she requested politely, her voice tight and her muscles rigid. Something like victory flashed in Lucille's eyes as she slid eggs, bacon and toast onto a plate and handed it and necessary cutlery to Gabriella.

Without a word, Gabriella marched from the silent kitchen and took the stairs with even steps. She couldn't hear anyone speaking below her as she took the few steps down the hall and knocked on the familiar bedroom door. She could hear the dull sound of a droning television from the other side, but Troy didn't call out to her or make any sound that she could hear. Forgoing another attempt, Gabriella used her free hand to grasp the doorknob and push the door, letting it swing open. The bedroom was dark, the curtains drawn and the desk lamp off. The TV was on but it had been muted at the sound of the door opening. The scent of aftershave that she had grown used to was vacant from the air as Gabriella stepped further into the room.

The room hadn't surprised her, but the figure on the bed did. Troy was wearing pyjama pants and a t-shirt, both of which had obviously been bought for a body bigger than the one wearing them now. His hair was same although it was in desperate need of a cut or a brush, whichever he would agree to. The weight loss was bordering on shocking, but his face pushed Gabriella's mask to its breaking point. His face was pale against the dark headboard and pillow cases that he was propped up against at the head of the bed. His eyes were underline by dark circles which shouldn't have been present given the amount of time he slept lately. His eyes were dull until they settled on the figure in the doorway. Gabriella saw the flicker of confusion as he sluggishly processed her presence.

"But why-," he began, struggling with jerky movements to sit up. A pillow slipped from its place and fell to the floor.

"You're mother says you're not eating enough." Walking until she reached the bed, Gabriella placed the plate on the flat spot beside him and took a seat on the edge of the bed. Holding out a fork, she waited for him to hesitantly take it but not make a move to pick up the plate. "Eat," she demanded, "And then we'll discuss how impolite it is to ignore phonecalls from people who care."

It was a simple answer that spoke to deeper volumes than his bitter actions. She had come because she needed to; because he had needed her to. Pulling the plate closer to him, Troy picked up a piece of toast and cautiously brought it to his mouth. While Gabriella watched, he ate, and neither of them said a word.


	8. PART VIII

_**AN: **__I've gotten some really great reviews over the last few chapters. I appreciate all of your love. Enjoy. Congratulations to the ff board for 1600 threads of Living In Love, and 100 threads of fanfic at Zac's board. There may be a few typos, let me know, but if I find them, I will edit. Enjoy because it's almost over. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

* * *

~*~

* * *

**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART EIGHT**

"_I crave the light that he brings." _

_-Gabriel, Lamb_

* * *

_February_

A groan of frustration resonated from behind the closed door as Gabriella slammed it behind her in an effort to escape the room. Andy stood in his doorway as she stormed by, her cheekbones stained red and her fists clenched. Troy was being pigheaded and cynical and one more moment in his presence would have caused Gabriella to push him off the bed. Breakfast and Troy's failure to send her away had given her hope that her appearance alone would be enough to snap him out of his self-pitying depression, but the hours between her arrival and Saturday evening had dashed that hope to ruins.

He had eaten breakfast in silence under Gabriella's watchful eye, not meeting her gaze once. After he had listened to her berate him for his withdrawal from her life and his clipped tones, he had continued to stare at the wall behind her head as if she was talking to someone else. She argued against his lack of phonecalls and his dismissal of her feelings. When she had run out of breath and stood, chest heaving and tears streaming, at the foot of his bed, he had continued to maintain his speechlessness. Gabriella had left the room, only to return minutes later to try a different approach. Shoving her anger aside, she'd tried pleading with him. She'd tried guilt tripping him. She'd tried bribing him. Nothing worked. The basketball game droned on the television and when Gabriella caught him shifting his gaze from the empty spot behind her head to the TV screen to check the score, she lost all control over her usually tame demeanour. Yanking the remote out of his hand, she ignored Troy's verbalized protests as she threw it against the wall. Batteries fell out as the device broke against the plaster.

"Fuck the remote!" she had screamed at him, the pitch of her voice causing him to finally register the depth of her raging emotions. "Fuck you! What happened to the guy who wanted to leave memories? What happened to the guy I fell in love with?"

"He's gone, Gabriella. The cancer and the drugs and my fucking brain took care of him. Get used to it!" Gabriella saw the moment his mind registered what he was saying and for the first time, she realized what the Bolton's had been handling since she'd left.

She had known his impulse control would deteriorate, but to watch him struggle with the pain of hurting those around him was like a knife to her heart. Suddenly, she'd felt physically and mentally exhausted. Fatigue weighed on her limbs and even breathing seemed to take too much effort. Sighing, she'd run a hand through her hair, the curls limp and dull as she brushed them out of her face.

"You're giving in," she had replied quietly, her voice soft and heartbroken. "You promised you wouldn't. It was the one promise you've made that I expected you to keep. The rest are out of your control, but giving in is up to you."

Then she had left, slamming the door and leaving Troy by himself to mull over her words. Andy questioned her with his eyes as she walked past, and Gabriella could only imagine what she looked like. She hadn't slept much on the bus, her mind running at a hundred miles an hour as she imagined what her reception in Albuquerque would be like. She had daydreamed about her reunion with Troy, her mind falling into restless sleep on and off so many times it didn't seem to make a difference to her. Her hair had been tied up and let down repeatedly so that it was a tangled mess down her back. The Stanford sweatshirt she wore was wrinkled and her pants uncomfortable. She hadn't eaten in hours. Weariness made her eyes itch.

In the guestroom that looked the same as when she had left, someone had placed her suitcase on the bed. Ripping the zipper open, Gabriella yanked her sweater over her head and threw it across the room. It fell softly over the back of a chair. Her jeans followed after angrily tugging at the button, her frustration ebbing away slightly as she pulled on more comfortable sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt that barely reached the waistband. Pulling her hair into a messy bun, she clipped the back to make sure the wiry tendrils stayed in place. Irritation was replaced by restlessness as she toyed with the charm bracelet on her wrist. Part of her wanted to run back down the hallway and wage war again, and the other part of her wanted Troy to stew in his room. A soft knock on the door interrupted Gabriella's internal thoughts, jerking her head up to see Andy ease the door open.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, his voice quiet and his hands jammed awkwardly in his pockets.

"I'm fine," she told sharply, dropping her fingers from the bracelet to dangle stiffly by her sides. She felt caged by his presence, as if he represented the hope of the household that she could work miracles. "I should have expected his reaction."

"He didn't have the right to treat you like that," Andy assured her. "It almost makes me wish I was back at school. At least then there would be something to distract me."

"No," Gabriella sighed, leaning her head against the door post opposite him. "It's worse when you're at school. You try to pay attention but your mind is always somewhere else. You try to make time for your friends but you're afraid to go out because you may miss a call; or the call will come while you're out and you end up ditching your friends to savour the precious moments that require privacy. You do homework, but you really don't care. You read your textbook, but you don't remember anything afterwards. No, being at school is worse than being here. I guarantee it."

"What are you going to do at the end of the weekend?" he asked, knowing showing in his eyes. They shared the same circumstances and Gabriella was aware that Andy knew her reluctance to return to Stanford in the first place. She was sure he could predict her actions now.

"I'll figure it out."

Andy let the subject go and the awkward silence returned, strangling Gabriella with the irony how quickly she could step back from Andy and halt the need to spill her innermost secrets. There were moments when she forgot what was lost between them, and there were moments when she longed to have it back. Stepping back inside the room, watched as Andy shuffled down the hall to the stairs, eyeing Troy's room as he passed, but Gabriella couldn't read the expression on his face. Rubbing a cold hand against her hot face, she shut the door and turned off the lights. Sleep was unexpected, but she welcomed it when it swept over her.

~*~

When Gabriella woke on Sunday morning, she felt disorientated until the previous day came rushing back to her. Suddenly the room was familiar again and the sounds of people coming from below made sense as fogginess of sleep was driven away. Dragging herself from the bed, she grabbed clothes from her suitcase and her bag of toiletries, slipping into the hallway and entering the bathroom. After a shower that removed the tense muscles and the grime from the bus ride, she took her time pulling on leggings and a sweaterdress. Makeup followed although she kept it simple, and her hair bounced as she pulled the brush through her locks. Feeling better than she had the night before, Gabriella gathered her laundry and tidied the bathroom before returning to her room to make the bed.

Her humming halted when her gaze fell upon the tiny blue box on the corner of the nightstand. Its familiarity made her breath catch and she sent a rushed glance around the room to look for its deliverer. It hadn't been there that morning, she was sure or she would have knocked it off as she stumbled out of bed. Leaving her laundry on top of the desk by the door, Gabriella slowly crept towards the box and gently picked it up, cradling it in her hand. It wasn't wrapped. No bow or adornment. No tag, but she knew who it was from. Trembling fingers pulled the lid off, stilling when she caught a glimpse of the charm. It was simple, like all the others, its silver background dull against the golden design of the mathematical symbol for infinity. Troy was giving her forever in the only way he could.

Clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, Gabriella allowed herself a few moments to cry before pulling herself together and marching down the hall to the tightly shut door. She didn't bother to knock. The room was dark, like the day before, but the TV was off. Troy was sitting on the end of the bed, his hands spinning a basketball between them. A cane leaned against his dresser and Gabriella assumed he'd used it to get to her room without anyone noticing. He didn't look up when she leaned against the doorway, the box still in her hand.

"Last year, those guys from the rental shop invited us into town for their bonfire," Gabriella began softly, her eyes on the charm link and its simplistic loops. Troy looked up. "Do you remember that?"

He nodded and Gabriella gave him a small smile. It was genuine, pulled from the happiness of yet another moment when everything was normal and they were just two strangers using each other to occupy their vacation. Troy's lips twitched, but his smile was stunted by the curiosity in his eyes. He didn't know where she was going with the story, but Gabriella took her time to think about how to phrase it properly.

"It was a couple of days after Christmas and it was some weird town tradition where the high schoolers or the college kids home for break would play football in the snowy fields and sit around on logs by the fire and make out with their significant others. We decided to go just to get off the resort." Troy's eyes softened their guard for a moment as he remembered with her. "I don't know where Andy was, actually I'm not sure why I never saw Andy at all while we were there, but the point is your dad agreed for you to take the rental SUV into town. The entire drive you rambled on about your truck back in Albuquerque and how much work you'd done on it. I remember in the back of my mind thinking that you sounded like such a guy and the thing was probably never going to run, but I nodded and let you go on for what seemed like ages anyway because it was obvious you loved it."

Gabriella paused in her recounting of the night, biting her lip before taking the plunge into potential battleground. Slipping the bracelet off of her wrist, she took the charm from its cotton nest and let the box fall to the ground as she stepped around it on her way to the bed. Troy looked surprised when she sat down beside him, pulling his hand closer until it rested over her thighs with the palm up. Placing both the bracelet and the charm in his hand, Gabriella closed her hand over his before looking into his eyes and continuing.

"Your dad showed me the truck before Christmas when we were in the garage together. He called it your pride and joy and I was surprised when he said you'd gotten it running and every time it breaks down, you get it going again." That time, Gabriella caught the eye roll from Troy. "I have to tell you though, it's pretty ugly. Seriously, it needs a paint job."

"What's your point, Ella?" Troy asked in a quiet voice. It wasn't sharp or biting and Gabriella found hope it.

"You're not the type to give in, Troy. It's not in you to admit defeat. You may be realistic, and you may have come to terms with certain things, but you're not one to lie down and just wait for the end." She took a deep breath, feeling as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff. "So why are you doing it? Why aren't you downstairs with your parents or out with your friends or spending time with Andy? Why is your truck getting rusty in the garage?"

Gabriella had thought it would take longer for him to answer. She had thought that he needed someone to listen as he hashed out his thoughts. She had been wrong. He had an answer, poignant and simplified down to only the necessary words and articulation. He had obviously been talking to someone, but Gabriella felt it wasn't her place to ask. If he had found a way to let someone in, then she would give thanks for it and accept it for what it was.

"Everything is getting harder," Troy spoke as he squeezed her hand that lay in his. "Before it was a headache here and there, a dizzy spell that was easily covered up, or a few extra hours of sleep in the middle of the day. Now it's all right out there in the open and everyone watches for it, waiting for me to ask for help, falling over themselves to be there or offer their sympathy. I'm so tired of it, El."

Gabriella turned so that when she tugged on his arm, he leaned into her chest. Her fingers played with the strands of his hair as his head rested on her shoulder and despite the current conversation, her heart felt at peace as she revelled in having him close. She was aware that her motions were desperate and that her fingers clung to him. Listening as he spilled his fears and his apologies and his regrets to her, Gabriella closed her eyes and soaked up his presence.

"For the first few days after you left, Andy and I would shoot hoops out on the court. I had crappy aim and we couldn't do one-on-one, but we could stand at the foul line and just shoot without keeping score. Then my co-ordination got so bad that Andy spent most of his time searching in Mom's rose bushes for the ball and I told him enough was enough. We haven't played since. I went out one night, determined there was a way to correct myself so that I could still play, but after an hour and not one basket, I had to give in." Troy's thumb rubbed at the skin on the back of Gabriella's hand. "After that, it was easier to say no."

There was more, Gabriella learned, as he continued to talk. The room was hushed, only the low tones of Troy's voice as he told her everything she had missed. Everything he said he was glad she didn't see, but everything he wanted her there for because things wouldn't have been so hard. He told her how his dad had installed a handrail in the shower upstairs and how his mother would hover outside the bathroom door when he showered in case he fell. He told her how the guys had stopped playing X-Box or Playstation when they came over because they had caught on that Troy no longer had the dexterity to manoeuvre the controller. The day they caught on he had been faking it for their sake, Jason had called him out on it and Troy had kicked them out of the house. He hadn't seen anyone but Chad since.

When he wasn't dizzy, he was nauseous or light headed. If he was lucky, and stayed sitting, he could go a handful of hours without any symptoms. Like he had told her though, his movements showed the tumour's progression. Stairs scared him, he admitted. Going up wasn't as bad as going down, but going up took more time and strength. Slanted surfaces, like the driveway outside or the patio stones in the backyard, screwed with his depth perception on bad days. He hated the movie theatre where the darkness made navigating the aisles all the more complicated.

"You're right about the truck," Troy told her over an hour later, the time having been lost like grains of sands in an hourglass. "It has always been the one thing I could turn to when I needed a distraction or needed to think. I used to work on it for hours when we got home from Colorado and I needed to get you out of my head. I rebuilt the entire front end when I learned you were dating Andy. In theory, I should have turned to it when you went back to school and I had to admit things were getting worse, but it's hard to find the will to do it when I can't even drive it."

"Does it run?" Gabriella asked, her brain firing thoughts at a million miles an hour and her insides giddy as tried to keep up with the idea that was forming. "If someone wanted to drive it, could they?"

"I guess," Troy hedged, eyeing her sceptically at why she seemed so interested. Gabriella could assume part of it had to do with the anxiety of knowing someone else would be touching his 'baby' in said scenario. "I mean, I drove right up until the diagnosis. It may need the oil checked."

"It's a stick shift, right? With a clutch and a gear shift and everything?" She wasn't even looking at him anymore but staring into space. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the worried look on his face and giggled at how quickly she was thinking up her plan, but also at how he was actually engaging in it with her.

"El, where are you going with this? I'm not selling it, if that's what you're thinking. I already told Dad I want Andy to have it." Troy narrowed his eyes at Gabriella as she absently patted his hand before standing up and kissing his forehead hurriedly.

"Don't worry," she assured him, excitement in her voice that was lost on him. "We're not selling it. I need to do some things but then we're going out. You should have a nap first."

"Out? I don't want to go out. What can we possibly do out that we can't do here?" The edge to Troy's voice began to creep back in but Gabriella could see he was desperate to join her in her enthusiasm. Reaching for his hand, she took back her bracelet and charm, swiftly linking them together with practiced fluency.

"You'll see," Gabriella promised. "I promise we won't see people. Just you, me and some fresh air."

Troy reluctantly watched her go, already laying down by the time Gabriella spun in the doorway to shut the door behind her. Racing down the stairs and into the kitchen, she almost slipped rounding the corner. A grin lit up her face as everyone in the kitchen including Jack, Lucille and Andy gaped at her with their mouths open. Giggling, Gabriella pushed her hair behind her ear and straightened her dress to calm her nerves.

"Honey, are you alright? You've been upstairs for hours," Lucille asked, not mentioning the fact that they had all been downstairs craning to hear if yelling had erupted again from upstairs. They had been shocked to have her rush into the kitchen with a smile on her face instead.

"Everything is fine. Perfect. Fabulous," Gabriella gushed, looking at Jack and Andy. "Do either of you know how to drive a standard?" Jack nodded hesitantly. "Can you teach me in two hours? I told him to have a nap but I'm not sure how much time that can buy us."

"Gabi, what are you planning to do? None of our cars are stick shift." Andy gave her an odd look that she was familiar with, but hadn't seen in awhile.

"The truck is," Jack noted, and Gabriella's smile grew until her face hurt. "You're going to take the truck out."

"Can we do it in two hours?" she repeated, giving Andy his answer while confirming Jack's.

"Let's hope so."

Clapping her hands like a small child, Gabriella yanked her coat off the hook in the hallway and jammed her feet into flat soled boots. She caught the keys that Jack threw her from the bowl on the counter and barely refrained from skipping out the door behind him as he led the way into the garage. Hearing the grinding of the garage door, Gabriella stood in the driveway and looked up to the window of Troy's room. For a moment, she thought she saw the dark drapes part, but then she decided the smell of gasoline was making her crazy and yanked her gaze back to the truck that Jack was pulling out of the garage. Climbing in the driver's side when he had vacated it, Gabriella gripped the wheel tightly and listened.

~*~

Trees and houses rushed past the windows of Troy's truck as Gabriella drove towards the outskirts of town, Andy's directions running through her head. Beside her, his silence exaggerated by the barely audible radio, Troy sat stiff in the passenger seat as he looked out the window. Gabriella had expected him to put up more of a fight when she gently roused him from sleep just after lunch and threw open the dark curtains to let in sun. He had grimaced and protested, but seceded to her insistences that it would just be the two of them as she tossed jeans and a t-shirt at him along with clean boxers, socks and a hoodie. Then she had left, only to return minutes later with a towel from the closet. After showering and dressing at the painfully slow pace Gabriella ignored, Troy had brushed his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair.

Gabriella caught the slight blush of pleasure on his cheeks when she complimented him with a quick kiss before telling him she would meet him outside after she grabbed snacks. Disappearing down the stairs, Gabriella softly told Andy and Jack that Troy was ready for them to help him down the steps. The getting of snacks had been a legitimate excuse for Gabriella to avoid being present when Troy descended the stairs. She knew it was a weakness he hated to admit and given how much he had let her in that morning, she felt it was only within her abilities to offer him a chance to reclaim some dignity. So she made sure she was outside while his father and brother held each elbow and slowly encouraged him to place each foot evenly on a step before doing the next one. Once in the driveway, Andy had helped both of them into the truck and slammed the heavy, rusted doors shut.

Troy had waited until they were out of the driveway before asking questions, something Gabriella appreciated as she bit her lip and mouthed the words to Jack's earlier instructions of how to drive the standard transmission vehicle. She had given him no answers except to reassure him that they were going nowhere public and that in all likelihood, he wouldn't leave the truck before returning home. Despite his frown and anxious behaviour each time Gabriella flicked on the signal light to indicate a turn, or each time the engine threatened to stall when she let the clutch out too fast, Gabriella had the intense indication that he was happy to be out of the house. Smiling to herself, she hummed along to the dim radio as she made another turn and began driving down the narrow road that Andy had mentioned.

"El, are you lost?" Troy asked her dubiously, his eyes scanning the road and the dashboard of the truck to make sure Gabriella wasn't going to break it. She rolled her eyes at his protectiveness. "There's nothing down this road but the trails to the river, and the river is pretty ugly if you ask me."

"I'm not lost," she chastised good naturedly as the road narrowed but remained smooth. "At the end of this road is a giant parking lot that no one uses and should be empty. Andy says it's big enough that kids from the high school come here to race."

"Well, yeah, but it's just a parking lot for the park," Troy replied, "Nothing special."

"We don't need something special. We just need somewhere big and empty, preferably paved." Gabriella stopped talking as she downshifted to a slower speed when the road opened into the lot that she had been seeking. "See! It's perfect."

She felt Troy watching her as she parked into a spot that would be easy to pull out of. Ahead of them, the park trails wound through the trees and a giant map indicated their position in accordance to the river with a giant red star. Unlatching her seatbelt, Gabriella peered over at him, and turned off the ignition.

"You and your parents agreed with the doctors when they suggested you not drive because you knew that the headaches and the dizzy spells were dangerous. I respect that, but you also told me this morning that each time something is taken away, you find it easier to give in the next time. I need you to fight. I'm not naive in thinking it will stop anything, but I need to know that you felt enough for me and your family in the end that you fought for every second we got to spend with you. If giving you back a little bit of control does that for you-gives you another reason to stick around for a bit yet- then I will do it." Gabriella held out the keys to him and let them fall into his palm with a jingle. "The decision is yours, Troy. We can turn around and go home, where you will go back upstairs and spend your time watching ESPN, or we can trade seats right now and you can drive around this parking lot until we run out of gas. There's even an extra tank in the back."

"You're serious?" he asked her, his eyes wide at the possibility.

"I am," she told him, opening the door and sliding to the pavement. "You don't even have to get out. Just slide over to the driver's seat."

She waited, dangling the challenge in front of him while he thought. She had meant every word. His mother would probably have a stroke if she knew what they were doing. His father had most likely already figured it out. Andy knew since she had asked him where to go where there would be no cars around in case things didn't go quite as planned. It was safe. Gabriella wasn't stupid, but she did know that Troy could handle a wide open space with no one around. He had lots of pavement available to him and she would stop him the moment she thought he had reached a limit. But it was safe. The sound of him unbuckling his seatbelt caused her to pump a fist in the air and run for the passenger side of the truck. Leaping in where Troy had sat moments earlier, Gabriella bounced in her seat as he jammed the key in the ignition and laughed outloud when the engine roared to life. Buckling her seatbelt, Gabriella leaned over and squeezed his hand before watching him struggle for just a moment with the shift as his years of practice came back to him. Leaning back in her seat, Gabriella let the smile on Troy's face warm her heart.

~*~

It was almost an hour later that Troy put the truck in park and cut the engine. Leaning over, he brushed his lips over her temple, his hand leaving the wheel to cup the back of her neck as she leaned into his kiss. It was long and sweet and tender, something they had both missed and yearned for during their separation. Seeing the happiness and new found vigour in his eyes, Gabriella decided it was time to spill the rest of her secret plans.

"I called Stanford this morning," she began, staring out the windshield. "I left a message for the registrar to call me tomorrow."

"Shouldn't you be back at school tomorrow?" Troy asked, his voice meticulously even. "You shouldn't be skipping class to come see me."

"I'm not skipping," she told him, refusing to meet his eyes. The tension in the truck built as each one waited for the words they both knew were coming. "I'm not going back this semester. The school knew it was a possibility when I left last week. I spoke to the department head on Thursday."

Troy looked over at her from the wheel of the truck. Behind him, out the window, she could see the field with its yellowed grass and bare patches. The sun glinted beyond the treeline. She could feel his gaze boring into her, but Gabriella was afraid to look at it. It was possible that he would be happy, and it was possible that he would be angry. The last thing she wanted was for him to be mad at her again, but the second last thing she wanted was to be separated by miles for another two months. Drawing in a breath, she waited for him to process the implication of her words.

"What do you mean when you say you're not going back?" he asked slowly, his hands clenching and unclenching around the wheel.

"It means I'm staying here," she answered, more snippy than she intended. She would defend her decision if he forced her, but as far as Gabriella was concerned, the reasoning behind it should be obvious.

"I thought we agreed you wouldn't do this." He paused, took a breath, and let it out slowly. Gabriella knew he was trying to control his temper. Trying not to yell.

"We did. Now I'm unagreeing. It's done, Troy." Gabriella turned in her seat to look at him, meeting his eyes when he did the same. "I can't go back. You wanted me to go because you thought it was best. I went because it made you happy. And I tried Troy, I really did, but I'm drowning there. My friends don't understand what happened between me and Andy and I don't want them to understand because that means letting them into something immensely private. I go to class but I don't give a fuck about what's going on because the entire time, I'm thinking about you. I can't be two places at once so here wins."

"Don't you think I want you here?" he asked, his hands pressing into the seat between them. "But you're sacrificing everything for me."

"So what?" she shot back. "You're worth the sacrifice. You're worth more than any scholarship or any degree or any course. I have a lifetime to finish school. A lifetime to work off the debt if they don't allow me to defer. I have a lifetime to live without you and there's no way I will give up the precious time we do have. I went back for you once, but this time I will go back when it's for me."

"It's hard to try and change your mind when I don't want you to go," Troy admitted. "I just want you to be able to live."

"I am living Troy, and I will continue to live when the time comes," Gabriella promised, gripping his hands in hers to close the space between them. "But right now, I want to live with you and no one can make me change my mind."

~*~

Later that night, when they were both curled up on the couch in the living room where Troy had insisted they watch a movie, Gabriella found herself watching the rise and fall of Troy's chest. He was right, to believe she would fall apart when he was gone, she could feel herself coming a little bit more undone each time she considered what it would be like for him not exist in her world. For her not to be able to reach out and touch him. To not call and talk to him, to hear his voice or his laugh. She'd also made a promise though, to live once he was gone and that was why the next morning, she spoke to the officials at Stanford and submitted all the paperwork to put her scholarship on hold until she felt fit to return.

Her professors were notified and her accounts balanced to zero owing. Her assignments were voided and all official paperwork sent to Albuquerque. Her mother was notified and her roommate gathered their friends and packed up her side of the dorm. Despite her disappointment and frustration at being so far away, Gabriella's mother paid to have everything shipped to the Bolton's or her home in Seattle, depending on what Gabriella required. When the final email we received and confirmed, Gabriella packed her books and school stuff in her now empty suitcase and shoved them under the bed, not wanting to think about when she'd have to look for them again.


	9. PART IX

_**AN: **__This wasn't the hardest chapter to write, but it was the hardest to post. The next chapter will be the last, and seeing as it is already written and mostly betaed, I want to thank Kelly for taking the time over the last couple of months to push and encourage me to do this. I'm sorry if any readers are anguished over the lack of babies. This was something new and raw and although I know it took guts to read, I appreciate taking the chance to branch out. _

_On a different note, I have had readers ask me for the inspiration and what makes it so real. Some of you know the vague details, others more intimately. The answer is found in my dedication: This story goes to anyone who has watched a loved one pass on, to anyone who knows what waiting is like, to anyone who still finds themselves reaching for a phone two years after that loved one is gone. This chapter is to my grandmother, who was the hardest person I've ever let go of, and Penelope's grandmother, who acted like my own when I needed one, and who went home to God on Saturday. It's only fitting that she and Troy would work together to give me the final push I needed. _

_~Van_

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

* * *

~*~

* * *

**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART NINE**

"_You can't go back home__."_

_-Flesh for Bones, Terra Naomi_

* * *

_March-June_

Gabriella stopped wearing a watch, the whitened blotch on her wrist evidence to the outer world that she was ignoring the passage of time. She told Troy that wearing it made her feel rushed, panicked, each time she made the unconscious glance at the numbers on its face. Despite her discarding of the accessory, Gabriella could sense the passing of seconds as days whipped by and the unknown continued to approach at an undeterminable pace. There were nights when she awoke in her own bed, sweat dripping down her back and her chest heaving, sobs jammed in her throat as she struggled to confirm if her dreams were nightmares or the truth. Other nights, she would wake on the couch or in Troy's bed, his skin warm beside her, and she would be perfectly happy until sleep threatened to return and she lost the war against slumber.

Troy's renewed vivacity released the tension in the house. For weeks, the good days outnumbered the bad. Gabriella would find him working on the truck with Andy or Chad or Jack. Jason and Zeke and the rest of his close knit group of friends came around the house again during the afternoons and more than once he ventured as far as Zeke's apartment or Chad's basement. Gabriella was always invited, but she usually declined, using the time to think or sort her own thoughts. Without drawing attention to his declining health, Troy taught Gabriella how to shoot a basketball by coaching her from a grassy spot on the lawn and to properly drive a stick shift vehicle. They would drive to isolated parks and go for short walks or grab ice cream at his favourite places. Mostly they would stay home and watch movies or play board games. Sometimes Troy would sit in the kitchen and watch Gabriella prepare dinner or simply bake for the joy of it. It was those moments that Gabriella would tuck away, burning the conversation, the looks, the touches, into her memory.

Progressively, the good days slipped away. The headaches increased with a vengeance and the pain medication that was prescribed decreased Troy's energy levels to a point where fatigue wore away at him. The cane was replaced by a walker, even while within the house, and Troy gave up protesting against the wheelchair if they went outside. He no longer shrugged off Gabriella's hand if she saw him falter and his mother stopped hovering outside the bathroom door, but stood inside until the point came when he required her help. His appetite shrunk until the only thing he would bother eating was his mother's homemade soup or Gabriella's Mexican rice. He didn't get to drive again.

The stairs became impossible, even with help. Jack and Andy set up Troy's bed in the spare room on the main floor that Jack had been using as an office. The desk and computer were moved upstairs to the master bedroom and Gabriella and Lucille did their best to decorate Troy's new room to mimic the one left empty upstairs. Lucille hired a homecare nurse to come to the house twice a week to take notes so that Troy didn't have to go into the outpatient clinic at the hospital to be monitored. It was a last ditch effort in their attempt to keep him at home as long as possible. He had confided in Gabriella that he didn't want to die at home if it could be helped; he didn't want his family to feel haunted by the house he and Andy had grown up in. So the household as a whole pushed to make things easier, to accommodate and to encourage.

Chad was constantly at the house. Sometimes he would bring tapes made from practice and Troy and he would dissect the team's game. Other times they would talk privately in Troy's room, Chad leaving late at night with tears shining in his eyes. If Troy was asleep when he arrived, or fell asleep before he left, Chad and Gabriella would sit at the dining room table and she would help him wallow through the piles of homework he sacrificed to spend time with his best friend. Gabriella welcomed the distraction that Chad's assignments brought, and he recognized her need for it in return by rarely talking about Troy. When classes came to an end in late April, Chad would bring his school schedule with him and let Gabriella offer her opinion on which classes to take.

When Troy's concentration began to falter, along with his vision, Gabriella would spend the afternoons reading to him. Newspaper articles, novels, poetry, or magazine entries were read in her melodic and rhythmic voice, usually lulling Troy to sleep or a semi conscious state. Many times Gabriella would make to slip a bookmark inside her book and lay it on the table only for Troy to tell her to keep going. She would, letting him examine the photographs that accompanied some of the articles. His eyebrows would pull together as he struggled to focus the fuzziness and ignore the blackening outer corners of his peripheral vision, and once and awhile Gabriella would allow her finger to trace outlines of what he was trying to see, narrating the details.

On sunny days, Troy wouldn't let anyone close the curtains in his room. His father would help him get situated on the couch or outside on the patio. Gabriella would weigh him down with blankets to combat the heat loss caused by his dwindling weight and curl up beside him and watch as Lucille and Jack planted spring bulbs and mulched the lawn and the pool guys arrived to balance the chemicals. Early mornings could find Gabriella in the garden cutting fresh blossoms from the lilac trees to leave in Troy's room. Troy liked to joke that she always smelled like dirt. The references to dirt made Gabriella cringe.

Lucille found her in the backyard on a chilly morning in May, the sun having just risen to glint on the shingles of the roof. Dew blanketed the shadowed areas of the yard but the spot in which Gabriella sat was dry. Her legs were bent, the skin of her knees poking out through the holes in her tattered jeans. Her sandals had flecks of dirt on them, and there was more under her fingernails which she absently picked at. An oversized hoodie taken from Troy's closet slipped off one shoulder. It was too big for him now, but it stilled smelled like his aftershave. Her hair was in a limp ponytail and she clutched lilacs with hacked stems in her hand, letting them dangle over her knee. She looked up when Lucille's shadow washed over her, looking back to the horizon as the older woman sat down beside her.

"Did you sleep last night?" Lucille asked, and Gabriella ran an absent finger under eyes where she had already seen the dark smudges. Troy's sleeping patterns had become so unpredictable that members of the household had begun a tentative rotation schedule that ensured someone was always up when he was awake. If Troy wanted to watch a movie at two in the morning, someone would watch it with him. "I heard you shut his door a little while ago."

"I'll go inside in a few minutes and get some sleep," Gabriella assured her quietly, her mind still following her thoughts from a few moments ago. Her fingertips brushed against the silky buds of the stems. "I wanted to make sure he had these when he woke up."

"It's a sweet gesture," Lucille told her kindly. "I know he appreciates it."

Gabriella nodded, twirling the rough branches between her hands, taking care not to knock any flowers off. The smell drifted to her nose and she resisted the urge to bury her face in them and inhale. Looking around the yard, she saw the rose bush greening up as buds for leaves sprouted. Shoots from the bulbs pushed through the ground and the grassy still had that silky, springy new feel to it before summer cooked it to straw. Usually she would love spring with its symbolic new beginnings and assumed fresh starts. Instead it felt like the flowers were gaining life by sucking it from Troy and everyone else around her. Outside, the earth was bursting with energy but Gabriella felt like lying down and sleeping until winter.

"It's hard, don't you find?" Lucille asked, interrupting Gabriella's thoughts. "The quiet seems less comforting now. It's more foreboding."

"It makes me edgy," Gabriella admitted. "Like a warning. I'll wake up at night and creep down to his bedroom door and ease it open just enough that I can hear him breathing..."

"...And then you sit outside in the hallway and let it calm the pounding panic in your heart," Lucille finished for her with a grim smile. "I do it too."

"It's going to happen soon, isn't it?" Gabriella whispered, tipping her head to watch Lucille's face. Her fingers felt cold and numb, her feet wet in her sandals.

"Maybe," came the husky answer and Gabriella saw the mother swallow heavily before dashing at her eyes. "What will you do afterwards?"

"Go to Seattle," Gabriella shrugged, her arms feeling heavy. "Mom will be home by the end of the month but I asked her not to come here. I'll stay with her until I'm ready to go back to school." She took a deep breath but her lungs hurt. "After that, I don't know. I don't want to think about it."

"You're always welcome here," Lucille reminded her. "If you wanted to stay or come back to visit."

She meant well by it, but Gabriella knew there would be no reason to stay after Troy was gone. The pain of being in his house, of being so close to him and yet so far away, would be unbearable. To have her broken heart on display to others made her uncomfortable to consider. Seeing Andy everyday would be like having Troy haunting her with his shaggy hair and bright eyes. It felt right to go to her mother's house where she had only been once. Without Troy, the mere consideration of the idea made Gabriella feel like a spinning compass needle with no direction. Without him, home seemed unattainable.

~*~

Mornings were when Troy was at his best. He was more alert and his focus could be held for lengthier periods of time. With hours of sleep behind him, he was able to control his speech so that for a little while, the slur went unnoticed and his words were clearer. Gabriella liked the mornings because she could fall into the household routine of simple activities. Lucille would start breakfast and Jack would help in between reading the morning paper. Andy would join them just as breakfast was served and would ignore his father's protests as he slid the sports section from beneath the haphazard pile in front of Jack. Troy would wake up just as everyone was finishing and Gabriella would flit about his room, telling him the highlights of the news as she pulled the curtains open and added fresh lilacs to the vase.

The current morning in late May, just weeks before the official start to summer, was no different to Gabriella. Breakfast had been cleaned up and Jack and Lucille had left for some alone time while running errands. Andy was outside mowing the lawn which had been mowed four days ago but he insisted needed to be done again, leaving Gabriella and Troy in an empty house where the only sound was the humming of the lawnmower that passed outside Troy's window every few minutes. Turning back to face Troy who was sitting against the pillows piled at the headboard of the bed, Gabriella offered him a bright smile.

"I was thinking that we could go outside to the patio once Andy finishes with the lawn," she told him, folding the blanket at the foot of the bed and laying it over the back of a chair for later. "It's beautiful out and the air will have that fresh cut grass smell."

"I guess," Troy agreed, rubbing a hand over his eyes in the way he did whenever his sight was foggy. "Can you find my meds in the kitchen?"

"Sure," Gabriella answered, pausing at the doorway. "Do you have a headache?"

"Just a small one."

She returned a few minutes later, a cup of water in one hand and a fistful of pills in the other. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she let him grip the cup in his hand before handing him one pill at a time to swallow. With each sip of water, Gabriella's hand guided the cup to ensure his shaky grasp didn't spill any on the covers. With each pill, she recited its clinical name and uses in her head as Troy had done the first time she had asked. The routine was done with practiced skill on Gabriella's part while she whispered encouragement and meaningless chatter meant to take the tension off the situation. When Troy handed the cup back to her, she set it aside on the nightstand before leaning forward and lightly kissing his forehead.

"Better?" she asked gently, letting her hands slide through his hair as his eyes remained shut. When he nodded, she bit her lip. "Do you still want to go outside?"

"Yeah, of course," he whispered, his tongue slurring on the final word. "Can you help?"

The dizziness and poor depth perception made getting dressed an impossible task for Troy by himself. It had taken awhile to let anyone but his mother help and even then, it usually soured his mood. Once allowed to be involved in the somewhat intimate task, Gabriella realized it was a moment when they were as close as they could be and yet still heartbreakening by its implications. Selecting sweatpants from his bottom drawer and an undershirt from the one above it, Gabriella helped Troy move until he was seated on the edge of the bed. Guiding his feet into the legs of the sweats, she acted as a support for him to lean on when he stood and pulled them up.

"Easy," Gabriella murmured as she helped him sit back down without missing the bed. "It's warm out but you may want a sweatshirt," she told him as she slipped the undershirt over his head.

"Probably," Troy grunted. He managed to get his arm through one hole in the shirt before Gabriella paused in her rummage for the mentioned sweater and helped him with the second one. Tugging the white fabric into place, they repeated the same steps with the sweat shirt. "I need socks."

"I got them," Gabriella assured him, putting one on and then the other. "Let me find your sneakers; I'll be right back."

With Troy's sneakers in her hand, Gabriella returned from the hallway and announced that Andy was finishing up outside. It took a few moments for her slip the shoes on and lace them up, mostly because Troy's coordination made it difficult to get his foot inside. After a few choice swear words that made Gabriella roll her eyes at him, they succeeded and she sat back on her heels with a grin. Outside the engine of the lawn mower cut out, only to be replaced by the buzzing of the whipper snipper. Gabriella couldn't help but sigh in disappointment.

"I thought you said he was almost done," Troy commented, noting the slight pout to her lip.

"I just looked out the front door," she told him quietly, "I forgot about trimming all the edges around the walkways. It's okay, we can read while we wait; your dad's Sports Illustrated arrived with the mail today."

"El?" Troy asked, her attempts to hide the quiver in her voice from him unsuccessful. Her back was too him but she stiffened.

"I'll go find the magazine," Gabriella mumbled, her hand dashing across the wetness on her cheeks that she had only just noticed. "I think I saw Andy leave it in the kitchen."

"El, you're crying," Troy noted with incredulousness, his voice concerned.

"I'm fine," she insisted. The tears were evident in her voice, along with her frustration at their appearance. She jumped when he reached out and caught her hand as it dangled along her side. "It's nothing," she insisted, "Stupid, even."

"Crying is not stupid," Troy persisted, his voice not frantic but anxious. "I haven't seen you cry in weeks and now you're crying over a lawn mower. Talk to me, El."

"It's not a big deal," Gabriella responded, running a hand under each eye to catch stray tears. She gave a strangled laugh that sounded false and hollow and did nothing to ease them back into the easy feeling of before. "I'm just tired and I was looking forward to going outside and it's fine; we'll read and then I'll get Andy to help you to the patio."

"Gabriella!" Troy called, exasperated as she took quick steps to the door in an effort to escape. She would take a couple of minutes in the kitchen to calm herself and get the raging emotions under wraps and return to the room with a smile and tea, the magazine under her arm. She just needed a moment, she was about to say when she turned at his call.

For Gabriella, it happened in slow motion, but yet too fast for her to react. Troy, in his attempt to make her stop and talk to him, had decided to follow her. The walker was just out of his reach, causing him to use an arm to prop himself further on the bed while stretching towards the piece of equipment. His fingers barely grazed the metal before the arm on the bed slipped and gave way, setting him off balance. He didn't have the strength or coordination to correct the angle of his body before he fell off the bed, hitting the floor with a muffled thud. Gabriella gasped when he let out a groan, but didn't move.

"Oh, God, Troy! Troy!" Gabriella cried, panicking while trying to decide to help him or go get Andy first. One hand pressed to her forehead and the other gripping the doorframe to keep her upright, she tried to swallow the dryness in her throat and the pounding of her heart as red spots danced in her vision. The walls seemed to expand and contract until she found her voice again. "Troy!"

"Ow," Troy grunted, pushing himself up clumsily into a sitting position. Gabriella seemed to unthaw at his awkward movements, rushing forward to grip his elbow, reaching easily for the walker and sliding it closer.

"Here, I'll hold it steady and you can use it to support your weight until we can get you close enough to the edge of the bed," Gabriella rushed, her voice frantic and her words quick as she hovered over him with her hands resting firmly on the handles of the device. "Or we can--," her eyes flicked over him momentarily, checking for injuries or pain on his face. "Did you hurt anything? Bump your head? Does anything feel funny or out of place? What about your—"

"El," Troy replied evenly, his tone firmly controlled to get her attention and keep her trained on what he was saying. "I am fine. Nothing hurts. I didn't fall that far and it was a stupid stunt anyway."

Gabriella let her gaze inspect him once more, her eyes leaving his for a moment and then returning to watch as he slowly shifted so that he was positioned with his back against the side of the bed and his legs bent in front of him. His arms kept him balanced by resting on either side of his hips. He looked fine, but Gabriella's earlier fear hadn't completely dissipated and her body hummed with anticipation of another incident or crisis. Focusing on his words, she let her anxiety disappear by replacing it with anger.

"You're damn right it was stupid! What were you thinking? I was going to be right back, or I would have helped you or something! Don't you dare scare me like that again! What if we were home alone and you weren't fine? Huh?" She was irrational but the emotion that had been bubbling earlier had erupted with the shock of the event just moments before. "What would I have done then?"

"You 'd have called an ambulance," Troy replied calmly. He winced as his back dug into the rails of the box spring for the bed. Gabriella stared at him blankly. "El, we've gone over this before. If something happens and you're by yourself, you call 911."

"Could you not be a smart ass for a moment and listen to me?" Gabriella asked, hating the way he could speak about an emergency without flinching. "Something serious could have happened to you."

"Ella, something serious _is _going to happen," Troy reminded her, "And you will call the ambulance and they will take me to the hospital and I won't come home."

"Stop saying things like that!" Gabriella cried, the tears welling up in her eyes.

"I _need_ to say things like that," Troy said back, raising his voice and causing the slurring to be more pronounced as he stumbled over words. "Otherwise you're going to freak out and panic just like you did now and that won't do anyone a lick of good."

"Stop it! You don't need to tell me! I get it, Troy!" she yelled, anger burning through her and making her hands curl into shaking fists that dangled by her sides. The tears were hot on her face. "You're going to die! You're going to leave me here and nothing will be the same and all you can say is 'call 911 and don't panic'. Of course I'm going to panic! Don't you get it? I fucking love you and you're going to die. Not only that, I know you're going to die!"

Gabriella felt her eyes go wide as the words spilled forth; words she never wanted to say to him in that manner because he would realize that she wasn't okay and it was all an act. He watched her quietly as she clamped her hands over her mouth and slid down to the carpet next to his knees. After a few moments of neither of them speaking, Troy drew his legs apart and without a word, Gabriella climbed in between them and pressed her face against his chest. She had spent nights sleeping in that same position if they fell asleep together. It was as close as they could physically get and the only way Gabriella could sleep properly.

"Is this what the lawn mower was about?" Troy asked softly, curling a hand around the back of her neck and leaning down so he could smell her hair. Gabriella felt him against her curls.

"There's not enough time," she whispered, coughing as she sniffled. "I just want more time, that's all."

"I know, but no matter how much we had, it would never be enough." His hands wove around her back and pressed her to him and Gabriella gripped his sweatshirt in both hands as she buried her face in his neck. "It's not about hurting you when I say things you don't like." Gabriella watched as one of her tears trickled down and wet his collar. "It's about knowing you'll be okay. I need to know you'll be okay."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do after," Gabriella admitted. "Yeah, I'll go home and then go to school and have a career, but what about everything else? How am I supposed to live my life the way you want when you can't be there?"

"But I will be, Ella," Troy told her ferociously and with momentary strength, he cupped her face and stared directly into her gaze. "I love you and I will be in everything you touch, and everything you see and everything you do. I'll be there when you find someone you can love just as much, and when you have babies and when you're old and staring death in the face like I am now. You'll find me once I'm gone, El. I promise." Gabriella held a finger up to flick away the tear that rolled down Troy's face that was blurred from her own tears. "You have to believe in something bigger than us and that faith will help make sense of what you're supposed to do. It's how I can let go, knowing that everything has a purpose."

"I don't want to let go," Gabriella replied stubbornly.

"You have to," Troy told her. "Promise me you'll be ready when it happens. Promise me you'll find something to live for."

"I don't think I can," she admitted.

"I need you to. Promise me." Troy's eyes were burning the colour of sulphate, their heat boring through her and making it impossible to deny him anything.

"I promise."

They stayed huddled together on the floor until Andy came in and found them. Together, they got Troy back into bed where he and Gabriella read for the rest of the afternoon. They decided not to go outside that day, feeling nothing more than to stay secluded away in privacy and peace. The next day it rained, and the day after that, Lucille called an ambulance when she couldn't wake up Troy.

~*~

The hospital sounded like death, Gabriella had decided after the first night Troy was brought in. No amount of flowers in his room could brighten the white walls and ugly pastel green trim. No Mr. Clean could scrub the sickness off the floor and the windows did nothing to welcome the sun. The room they had placed Troy in was just off the main corridor so that they were left in peace and uninterrupted by visitors for other patients. The nurses stopped by like clockwork, ticking off their checklists of duties and writing numbers from the heart monitor on the wall. They would offer small chat about the weather and inquire about the Boltons' day, but Gabriella was sure they were just as happy to escape the prison atmosphere of the room.

It had been a stroke, or a seizure or something; Gabriella couldn't remember the exact words of the doctor, only that Troy was in a coma and there was nothing that could be done except wait for the inevitable. He could breathe on his own, but they weren't sure how long that could last and Jack and Lucille had already requested that nothing be done for their son except to ensure there was no pain. It would be peaceful, the staff assured them, and with that, the Boltons and Gabriella set about living their days at the hospital. They rotated in shifts, sometimes alone and sometimes in teams. Jack and Lucille took turns having private moments with their son and then would hold each other's hands while reading the local paper aloud. Andy would take his laptop and watch a movie, sometimes quoting the funnier parts to Troy. The nurses had told them it was possible he could hear them, even feel their touches, and the family maximized what little they could give Troy as comfort.

Gabriella would bring a book, but never read it unless it was to Troy. She rarely spent time in the room when someone else was there, and when alone, she would recount their days in Colorado. Minute by minute, she would relive happy times as Troy lay sleeping on the bed. That's how she preferred to think of it, sleeping instead of unconscious and unaware. She would talk about Christmas and the stories Andy had told her about his brother before she realized who he was. The blue eyed snowboarder from the hills. At night, when she knew no one would come back to check on her for awhile, Gabriella would climb in bed and curl up beside Troy, singing in his ear.

On the fourth day of keeping vigil, Gabriella was stretched between two chairs beside Troy's bed, reading to him from Dante's Divine Comedy. Her voice was smooth and melodic, lilting in all the right places. They had moved on from Hell to Purgatory and Gabriella was describing the souls rolling stones up the hill. She looked up at the soft knock on the door that she knew would be Andy without looking. She lifted her head in greeting, noting with empathetic sadness that the circles beneath his eyes were darker.

"You should take a break," he told her softly, pulling up a third chair on the other side of the bed. "The meeting with the doctor took longer than we thought. They brought a counsellor in case we wanted to talk; she's down the hall with mom and dad." Andy looked across to Gabriella. "She'll meet with you if you want."

"I don't want to talk to her," Gabriella answered, slipping her gaze to Troy's face and smoothing his hair across his forehead.

"That's fine," Andy replied, although he sounded unconvinced. Gabriella didn't press him to find out if he had spoken with the woman. "But I still think you should go for a walk or grab something to eat. I'll sit with him and then Mom and Dad will want their turn. You have some time, go get some fresh air."

"But I don't—," she paused and dropped her protest, knowing it wasn't right to keep Troy to herself no matter how much she wanted to. "I'll be back soon."

"Of course," Andy said gently, propping his feet up on the bed. "There are some shops on the main floor."

"Thanks," Gabriella told him, her heart not in it as she gathered her sweater and shoved a ten dollar bill into her pocket so she could leave her purse in the hospital room. Bending down, she pressed a kiss to Troy's forehead before leaving the room.

She used the bathroom, scrubbing the oil and sleep from her face in an effort to wake up. Taking the stairs, she wandered through the selections at the cafeteria and the cafe on the second floor only to feel like throwing up at the idea of eating any of it. Instead she purchased a bottle of water and strolled self-consciously through the gift shop, ignoring the racks of Get Well Soon and With Sympathy cards. When her water was gone, she used the bathroom again. Looking at the time on the wall in the corridor, Gabriella sighed at realizing only forty-five minutes had passed. She couldn't go back yet. Noting a sign on the wall, Gabriella began following the hallway past offices labelled for various support groups offered by the hospital until she reached a dim archway at the far end.

The chapel was non-denominational according to the sign as she entered. A couple of pretty rugs were laid out in a corner with a copy of the Quran closed on a tiny stool in front of them. The main part of the room was set up like a traditional church, with two rows of pews facing a bare altar. Letting her eyes roam, Gabriella located a small niche in the back of the room where candles were lit. Making sure she made no sound, she lifted the large, gaudily decorated bible from its podium and brought it to the front pew. Gabriella wasn't sure what possessed her, but after flipping aimlessly through the pages, she located Corinthians 13. Reading it over, Gabriella drew strength from the words as if Troy was the one reciting them to her. Laying down on the pew, Gabriella rested her cheek on the timeless pages and thought of the boy upstairs until she fell asleep in the serene oasis that many had not discovered.

~*~

Gabriella woke stiff and cramped on the pew in the chapel, the silence pressing in on her and the peace from the night before shattered as she glanced at her cell phone to see how much time had passed. A trip to the public bathroom had her splashing water on her pale face before quickly stopping at the canteen for horrible coffee that she forgot to sweeten with sugar. Her foot tapped impatiently as she waited for the main elevator, each connection with the floor tiles increasing her heart rate until finally the doors slid open and she could step inside. The coffee cup was warm in her hand as Gabriella stood in the elevator, watching the numbers climb to the eighth floor. Yawning, she covered her mouth with her hand before moving it up to tousle her limp curls. People chatted quietly about their loved ones as they waited with her, but it was the only thing Gabriella felt they had in common. She felt alone and isolated, her pain on display and yet unknown at the same time; the strangers beside her cloaked in their own personal crises.

People moved aside when the elevator chimed its arrival at Gabriella's destination, the doors sliding open with a calm and even pace that was not present within her. The floor was quiet; the lights dimmed to show that regular visiting hours were over for the night. Two nurses talked softly, their voices inaudible to Gabriella as she passed the big desk on her way down the hall. They stopped talking when they saw her, but it didn't mean anything to her; probably just gossip they didn't want the public to overhear. Another nurse ducked out of an office to Gabriella's right, her arms full of charts and clipboards. Her rubber soled shoes made no sound as she walked past Gabriella and headed for the nurses' desk. The doors to the patient rooms were shut or left slightly ajar and Gabriella wondered how it felt for their families to leave them at night. Turning the corner, she shivered once before looking up from her shoes and their rhythmic clicking on the tile.

Andy was at the end of the hallway. His hands rubbed against his upper arms, moved to the pockets of his jeans, and then back to his arms. Gabriella's heart hammered in her chest as she watched, taking three steps forward and then abruptly halting when his head came up to look down the hall in her direction. The poor lighting of the corridor highlighted the shadows gracing Andy's face, painting his cheekbones to look hollow and pale. Gabriella saw the slump of his shoulders first, the flash of tears in his eyes second, and the tremble in his hands third as he dashed the back of his hand against his face. She knew then.

He was waiting for her, she realized. He was waiting for her and the implications of that knowledge tumbled through her head like thundering waterfalls, pulling her under and taking her breath away. The coffee cup slipped unnoticed from unfeeling fingers, splattering against the worn grey tiles that were flecked with green. Her shoes were wet but Gabriella didn't care. Every part of her was numb, except the excruciating pain in her chest where her heart was shattering fragment by fragment. A strangled cry erupted from her throat as Andy took a hesitant step forward, the tears streaming down his cheeks. Gabriella didn't feel herself falling, but she was on her knees before Andy reached her.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head furiously. "No, no, no."

Tears blurred her vision but refused to fall, their salt burning her eyes. Chills raced up and down her spine, sweat broke out on her forehead, and her breath came in rasping breaths that never gave her the chance to inhale. It felt like bricks were crushing her and water was drowning her and through it, the only clear thought that rung in her mind was that Troy was gone. He had left her there in the cold, empty hallway on her knees to beg with God to not let it be true. He was gone. The tears came then, running hot down her cheeks and dripping off her chin. Arms captured her within their reach, but Gabriella didn't want them.

"No!" she screamed. "Don't touch me! I don't want you to touch me!"

"Shh," Andy whispered in her ear, his voice thick. "It's okay. It's better this way."

"It won't be better," she protested, failing to break away from him as he tugged her closer and gripped her hands to keep them from hitting him. Lowering her voice and choking on her words, Gabriella fought to breathe. "It will never be better again. It will never be okay."

"One day it will," Andy told her, his chin resting on her head as she cried into his chest. "One day it won't hurt so much and it won't feel like you're dying."

Gabriella stopped struggling to stare at the perfectly round tear that fell on her hand. It wasn't hers and she looked up to see Andy's tear stained face inches from hers, his eyes swollen and red and his bottom lip puffy. He had just lost his brother and had already lost her and yet he was struggling to hold it together in front of her. Her fingernails dug into the skin on the backs of his hands as she struggled to string words together and stop the shaking of her entire body. She was freezing, her teeth chattering between sobs and her jaw ached. Tears sliding down her face and mixing with Andy's, Gabriella bit her lip before speaking.

"He's—," Gabriella gagged on her words. "He's—really gone?" Andy nodded and Gabriella slammed a fist to her mouth to keep from screaming. She felt like she was going to puke. "It's ridiculous, isn't it?" she asked, her voice high pitched and hysterical. "You leave and—," Gabriella swallowed painfully, "—he's just gone." Again Andy nodded, words impossible for the moment. Gabriella inhaled sharply, her stomach coiling and the bile rising in her throat. "Oh, God, it hurts!" she exclaimed, clutching her hands to her chest and leaning forward while Andy rubbed circles on her back as she tried to grasp the meaning of everything that her brain was telling her.

Every atom of her being wanted to deny the truth. Every piece of her wanted to believe that she would walk into the room at the end of the hall and see Troy sleeping on the bed, his hair messily falling over his eyes. He would look peaceful and serene, and when she put her cheek to his chest, she would hear his heartbeat and feel his breath move her hair. And yet, she knew it wasn't true. She knew that if she walked in that room, it would be as cold as a tomb and just as empty. She knew the boy on the bed would never be Troy again. Heart wrenching sobs echoed in the hallway but to Gabriella, it sounded like they were coming from someone else.

"I was supposed to be there," she told Andy, guilt adding to the anguish in her face and in her heart. "I promised him someone would be there, that he wouldn't be alone. Tell me he wasn't alone."

"He wasn't," Andy whispered gently as he stroked her back, "Mom and Dad were there. It was easy, Gab. No pain or dramatic measures. He was just gone. It's how he would have wanted it. He wasn't alone, you kept your promise."

"Not all of them," she replied, the tears starting again. "I promised I would be ready. He made me promise and I did but I'm not Andy. I'm not ready."

"I know," Andy told her awkwardly. "I know you're not."

Gabriella clung to him—to his solidness and his presence and his own pain.

~*~

Gabriella stood at the edge of the gravesite. Her eyes remained fixed on the headstone, beautifully carved and elegantly curved. Each time the edge of the hole appeared at the corner of her vision, Gabriella's brain would taunt her with its awareness. She refused to look further; refused to acknowledge the casket that rested at the bottom. Roses and their petals lay scattered along the green plastic grass that cloaked the upturned ground in an effort to make the reality slightly less coarse. More flowers rested on the oak stained wood box that held Troy as well. Gabriella had laid one of her roses on top of it when it was still above ground, but now she didn't dare look to see if it had fallen off and been crushed when the casket was lowered. She had been unable to bring herself to give away the second rose Lucille had handed her, clutching it to her chest with cold fingers instead as its thorns dug into her palms.

A hand touched her elbow, causing her to jump, and she looked away from Troy's name to see Andy talking to her. She couldn't make out his words from within her foggy bubble that no one had been able to penetrate for days. Following the turn of his head, Gabriella noticed her surroundings. People had left and only family remained and they too were heading towards the cars provided by the funeral home. They were leaving? Confused, she tried to focus on Andy's words.

"Gabi? We're leaving, sweetie," Andy told her patiently, his voice losing the hollow tone that had been present all day in an effort to reach her. She looked at him. "There are people waiting at the house for us; people who didn't come to the cemetery."

"We can't leave him," Gabriella mumbled numbly, turning back to watch the gravesite. Two employees from the cemetery had appeared with shovels, but they held back when they saw Andy shaking his head at them. "I can't do that."

"Gabi, you're scaring me. You're scaring all of us. Troy is gone, and you can talk to him and love him and feel his presence without being here. All that's down there is a box. It's not really Troy." Andy swallowed, and she saw the tears glistening in his eyes, but his words seemed jumbled in Gabriella's mind. "These people need us to leave so they can do their job."

"You mean bury him?" Gabriella asked bluntly, her eyes trained on the workers who offered sympathetic glances. Andy flinched beside her at the emptiness in her voice, before steadying himself. Gabriella wondered how he could be so put together at a time like this, and then realized that people may think the same about her. She hadn't shed a tear all day and she had heard Andy's aunt whispering about it behind her in the church. "They have to wait because it's inappropriate to do it while we watch."

"I don't think you should watch," Andy replied gently, reaching for her hand and when she pulled away, he wrapped an arm around her slim waist and tugged her towards him. Gabriella knew she was pushing him to the limit of composure, but he struggled to hang on to make sure she was okay. "We will come back tomorrow, okay? I will drive you myself, I promise. And you can stay as long as you want. Right now, though, we need to go home."

He didn't wait for her consent, turning her in the direction of the sleek black Lincoln cars where people waited, watching them. Gabriella let Andy lead her across the grass, her feet moving without thought as she hugged her arms around herself and shivered. Reaching Jack and Lucille, Gabriella walked past them without a word or acknowledgement of the concern on their faces and slid in the door being held open by the driver from the funeral home. Clutching the rose in her lap, she stared straight ahead blankly while Andy and his parents discussed her outside. After a few minutes, Andy joined Gabriella, reaching out to take her hand. She looked down when she heard him swear.

"Damn, Gabriella, what did you do?" Her palm and fingers were punctured and bloody, the angry broken flesh swollen. "Let me see the other one."

Silently, she gave him the hand that held the rose, unfurling her fingers from the stem when he asked. It looked the same as her other one, the thorns pulling out of new wounds when Andy peeled it from her grasp. She watched as he set it on the seat beside him, the stem stained with her blood; some dried and some new. It captured her gaze, drawing her in as she tried to swim through the crushing feeling that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Gabi? Gabriella!" Andy snapped his fingers in front of her face and Gabriella blinked slowly, bringing her attention back to him. "I need you to snap out of this, do you understand me? What is going on with you? It's like you've decided to just shut down and I can't deal with that right now. Crying, anger, hell, I'll take denial, right now, but something to show me you're alive and in the same world we are."

"He's not here," Gabriella responded in a tiny voice, hoarse as if she'd abused her vocal chords. Andy looked surprised that she was answering him, but then guarded when he heard her words. "He told me he would always be here, watching, but he's not. I can't find him."

"He is here, Gab," Andy sighed and Gabriella looked past him as his parents got in the second car and the line of vehicles began to creep away from the gravesite. "You just need to look in the right place. You'll find him, it just takes time, but withdrawing from the rest of us won't help you any."

"They hurt," she mumbled as if she hadn't digested a word he'd just said.

"What hurts?" Andy asked, following her down-sweeping gaze to the blood on her palms.

"My hands," she answered dully, "They kind of sting. That's good, right? It means I'm trying."

"Yeah, Gabi," Andy told her as he pulled her head down to his shoulder and left his arm to lay across her trembling shoulders. Gabriella heard him sniff, but didn't look up. "That's good."

Trees sped past them as they wound through the streets of Albuquerque towards the Bolton home. Gabriella watched them, letting her mind dance around and flood her with memories still too fresh to be considered welcomed. Andy remained silent beside her, his hand warm as it rubbed her shoulder. When they reached the house, Gabriella got out of the car without waiting for someone to open the door and walked up the path to the crowded house on her own. Inside, she slipped past the people and ducked inside the room Troy had used downstairs and where all his things still hung in the closet and folded in the drawers. Yanking the black dress over her head and ripping the shoes off her feet, Gabriella pulled on a pair of sweats and a Wildcats sweatshirt that belonged to Troy. Pulling the hood over her hair and the sleeves over her mangled hands, Gabriella curled up on the neat bed and cried.

She was asleep when Andy crept in later, setting the rose on the nightstand beside her and covering her with the blanket draped over the chair in the corner. Satisfied, he left her to bear her grief in the privacy of his brother's bedroom.

~*~

The house was silent the morning after the funeral when Gabriella woke well before 8am. Feeling empty and lost, she tiptoed to her room to find jeans in place of the oversized sweatpants she wore to bed. She left the hoodie on, with its hint of male body wash still lingering, and crept back downstairs to slip on her sandals. Without making a noise, she sifted through the bowl of keys on the counter and found the keychain to the battered truck parked in the driveway. Chad had driven it to the funeral the day before. Pulling open the door, Gabriella slipped behind the wheel and turned the engine over. The noise was deafening and it didn't surprise her when the cell phone on the passenger seat began to ring. Gabriella ignored Andy's call, and Lucille's that came after it, silencing the phone and tossing it on the dashboard where it slid down to join Troy's collection of odds and ends.

Pulling the vehicle out of reverse and driving towards the outskirts of town, Gabriella kept her eyes on the road and avoided the empty passenger seat. The roads were mostly vacant considering it was early on a Saturday morning. After locating the road to the river park, Gabriella followed the winding path to the last private moment she and Troy had truly shared. Surely, there was something she could find that proved him right; that he was with her. So, Gabriella sat in the truck and waited. After thirty minutes of seeing nothing but trees and the muddy water beyond them, she slammed her hands on the wheel, evoking a protest from the horn.

"Where are you?!" she screamed to the cab of the truck. "Where the fuck are you hiding?"

There was no answer and her frustration and anger only increased.

"You promised me! You said you would be here and that I wouldn't be alone but I am, Troy! I'm all alone and there's no one here!" Gabriella leaned her forehead against the unforgiving hardness of the steering wheel. "I need you to be here. I'm not ready and you promised!" she sobbed. "You promised."

The phone on the dashboard flashed in silent mode, indicating four voicemails and feeling desperate, Gabriella reached for it. Andy's voice chastised her via voicemail, panic and anger and pain coming through in his voice. Numbly, Gabriella decided to call him back to assure him she hadn't driven into a lamppost or the river. Her fingers slipped on the keypad and she fumbled before it fell to the dirty untouched space in front of the passenger seat. Fishing around blindly with her arm, Gabriella groaned when she cracked her forehead on the glove compartment.

"Damn!" she cursed, holding her head as the compartment latch let go and the flimsy door fell open to spew its unorganized contents all over the place. "Fuck, Troy! Stupid frigging truck."

Laying belly down on the passenger seat, Gabriella began gathering up the registration, mechanical papers and old gas pump receipts off the floor. Feeling under the seat for any stray item she may have missed, her fingers crazed against something small and square. She pulled it out, along with half a roll of electrical tape, and held it in her hand.

It was a blue box, identical to the others but slightly dirty from the constant presence of grease in the truck. Her phone vibrated for her attention somewhere under the seat but Gabriella barely noticed. She turned the charm box every way, trying to decide if it was random or if it contained something. If it was empty, she would be filled with disappointment, but it had no reason to be empty. Steeling herself and wiping the tears from her cheeks, Gabriella sat up and rubbed her gritty hands against her jeans before picking up the box again. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes as she flipped open the lid.

It was a rose, gold on silver with a diamond petal. Choking on the fresh flow of tears that dripped down to splatter the blue velvet of the open box, Gabriella felt her face ache with the grin that stretched across it. She laughed, coughing as if it were a foreign reaction, and then let it bubble over. She clutched the box close to her chest, and let herself feel hope for the first time in days. Serenity washed over her, dulling her pain by a smidgen, but enough that she noticed the difference. Peace replaced her despair. Shoving the truck into drive, Gabriella drove back into East Albuquerque, the box with Troy's charm never leaving her grasp.


	10. PART X

_**AN: **__This is it. The end. This story has been so much more than I expected. I loved it from the beginning, but I've grown more attached to it as it progressed. I am so happy with how it's finishing. I think everyone should applaud Kelly who did such an amazing job and was never afraid to tell me I was insane. Between You & Me is almost completely written and I will begin posting the updates in the next couple of weeks, along with some for From Blood & Ashes. You've been fabulous. ~Van_

**Disclaimer: I do not own HSM.**

* * *

~*~

* * *

**Lay Him Down To Sleep**

**PART TEN**

"_Sunny days seem to hurt the most__."_

_-Who You'd Be Today, Kenny Chesney_

* * *

_June- Six Years Later_

Gabriella had missed the weather in Albuquerque. Back in New York, the air was just getting warm enough to leave jackets and sweaters at home, so she let the heat of New Mexico soak into her skin as it beat upon her face and bare arms. Overhead, the branches of the solitary tree rustled and shimmered with the rays of sun that hit the glossy side of its leaves. Sitting cross-legged on the grass, her back leaning against the solid stone of Troy's marker, Gabriella's eyes remained closed as she breathed in the sweet smell of freshly mowed grass and blooming flowers. Her fingers played absently with the silky strands of grass that tickled the palm that rested upon it; a strip of grass running uninterrupted between her hand and Andy's as he sat beside her.

With his legs stretched out and his face tilted upwards towards the sun, Gabriella could have used the glare of the sun as an excuse to confuse him with his dead brother, but time had ingrained the impossibility of that fact into her brain. No longer could she trick herself into thinking it had all been a nightmare. Gabriella licked her bottom lip, exerting pressure for a moment on her tongue as she caught it with her front teeth, before opening her eyes to slide her gaze to the right and take in the neatly trimmed hair that was so different from the shag he had sported during their first year at Stanford. The lines around his eyes had taken his boyish looks and replaced him with an air of adulthood. Even though she saw Andy at least once or twice a year, sitting in the cemetery brought his pain to a harsh frontier that hurt her to witness. Gabriella hastily looked away before he caught her, dropping her eyes to their hands in the grass. It never used to be odd for her to think of placing her hand over his, to merge their thoughts and feelings, but that had been a long time ago and within the representative presence of Troy it seemed traitorous for both of them. Instead, Gabriella brought her hands up to gently finger the petals of the cut bouquet in her lap.

She had brought Troy white roses. They were the same flower she brought every year during the same month. The day didn't matter to her— the days that had followed his death had seemed like a whirlwind of moments that blended together until she wandered into her mother's kitchen one morning to see that the calendar had been flipped to July—but the month did. June had become part of her routine. Every January she would flip through and make note of the weekends that could be worked into her schedule. Every May she would call the Bolton's and let them know when she was flying in and which hotel she would be staying at. Each June she would take a car from the airport directly to the cemetery and leave white roses on Troy's grave before doing anything else, and at the end of her visit, she would leave another bouquet of the same flower in the same place before heading back to the airport. Nothing ever changed for her in this regard. It didn't matter what was going on in her life, June was for Troy.

From his spot beside her, Andy looked over to watch the flawless movement of her hands as she contemplated the roses. The years and distance had taken its toll on their relationship since the day Gabriella had left Albuquerque for Seattle shortly after Troy's death, having been reduced to phonecalls every few months and Christmas cards addressed to his parents. Emails flew back and forth on birthdays and to mention special events. Jack and Lucille's thirtieth wedding anniversary invitation and subsequent pictures when Gabriella didn't attend. Thank you notes for graduation gifts and flower baskets at New Years' when Andy knew she would be at her worst. They talked but it was superficial. It hurt to contemplate the other's life as they progressed forward.

Andy, after returning to school, had dated and married a girl he met through his roommate. The wedding had been the summer before and Gabriella had not attended. Mutual friends told her the girl, Brianna, was lovely and Gabriella had sent her congratulations with love. She was happy for Andy, but she didn't belong at his wedding. She wondered if he would be at hers and it made her stomach clench with what it would mean. Sighing, Gabriella's mind tumbled over how things had changed so much between the two of them. He had been her rock for the days after losing Troy, but distance and pain had forced her to find the strength in herself to follow through on her promises to Troy.

Andy had driven her to airport that day. He had unloaded her suitcases from the bed of the truck that Troy had left him (along with detailed instructions on how to fix just about anything and who could be trusted to perform maintenance that was considered beyond his expertise), and set them on the sidewalk before the doors to the departure gate, and hugged her twice, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before driving away. She had boarded the plane and flown to her mother's house in Seattle where she spent the summer months enjoying the rain because it didn't remind her of Albuquerque. The first few weeks had been torture. She'd clutch her phone to her chest and sob until her pillow was soggy, wishing that she could call the only person who could help her through the pain but know it was impossible for him to answer. When she finally snapped out of it long enough to find a way to move and eat and go outside, Gabriella had found an odd comfort in standing in the pouring rain. The first time Lucille called to see how she was doing, Gabriella's voice had been raspy from catching a cold after standing outside for five hours until her mother dragged her inside.

"Are you cold?" Andy asked when he saw the unconscious shiver race down her spine, yanking Gabriella from her thoughts long enough to shake her head at him. "Oh, okay."

Her return to Stanford in the fall of that year had been a difficult adjustment. The pressure was on her to keep her marks exceptional or risk her already rocky scholarship. Andy had opted to transfer his credits to the University of Albuquerque where he could be closer to his parents who were still reeling from the loss of their eldest child. Alone, devastated and uninterested, Gabriella had arrived on campus and pushed herself to get through the fall semester. Her friends coaxed her into going with them to the quiet coffee shop every Friday just to get her out of her dorm room, which she agreed to just to keep them from calling her mother or Andy. She went to class, studied and when that didn't take up enough of her time, she got a bartending job on campus where she could be guaranteed long hours that ended with a dreamless sleep. When she survived that semester, she forced herself to complete the next one. Looking back, Gabriella could barely recall anything from her sophomore year at college. It was all a blur of just trying to live until the next day; to go a whole day without crying and then a whole week. She laughed and joked and smiled, but nothing seemed to get rid of the hole in her chest. Nothing ever seemed to matter because Troy wasn't there to share it with her.

She opted to stay in Stanford for the summer leading to her junior year, driving down to New Mexico after exams to visit Troy. Andy had found her curled around Troy's headstone, surprised to even see her in the city, and dragged her home for the next four days before letting her drive back to California. He and his parents had lectured her on needing to heal and move on and letting Troy go. They hadn't understood that she was trying. She had tried so hard. Each day, the pain was a little less, but then it would hit her like a ton of bricks. As a junior, she worked diligently through her studies, writing papers and completing labs with precision and accuracy, but no passion or energy. On New Year's Eve, home alone while her mother was away on business, Gabriella promised herself that the new year would be better. She'd take a risk. She'd live her life. She'd honour her promise to Troy.

Her first date was a disaster. She met him at the library and he'd flirted and with a hesitant moment of impulse, Gabriella gave him her number. They met for coffee and after twenty minutes, Gabriella was back in her dorm room, sobbing to her roommate. He had been from Denver and his favourite thing to do was snowboard. Her roommate set her up the second time. He had blue eyes and Gabriella managed six sentences and ten minutes before leaving. As consolation, her friends promised her a girls night with no pressure. They dragged her to the school's non-conference basketball tournament with the promise of ice cream after. Her third date, Gabriella swore, was arranged by Troy.

"Mom says you're marrying him." The quiet had stretched along since Andy's last comment. The sun had shifted so the light traced a path in the grass as the tree cast shadows around them. Gabriella spun the delicate silver band on her finger, the tiny diamond sparkling in the sun. On her wrist, a similar diamond caught her eye and she quickly looked away.

"I am," she replied softly, throwing him a calm look before returning her attention to the engagement ring. "In the fall; maybe here at his parents' house. We haven't decided yet."

A basketball game in March was the turning point in Gabriella's life because fifteen minutes after finding the seats her friends had purchased, the announcer called UCLA and the University of Albuquerque to center court. An invisible fist squeezed Gabriella's heart as she ignored the point guard position that had been filled by a stranger, and in doing so, her eyes fell on a familiar head of curly hair that was dribbling a ball down court. At the end of the game, Chad Danforth found her waiting nervously in the parking lot beside the bus from U of A, soaked from the pouring rain. They had coffee in town that night, tucked away in a private corner where they caught up on small talk. The next night, they went to dinner at the pub where Gabriella worked. When he left at the end of the week, he promised to keep in touch.

"So, you love him and all of that?" Andy asked, curiosity in his voice rather than the betrayal that she had expected. Her feelings about Chad had been conflicted in the months that followed the tournament. Although they had never kept it a secret from anyone, it had taken awhile for them to tell their friends and families. For Gabriella, her mother was thrilled and her friends thought Chad was a gift from the heavens, but then they hadn't met Troy or seen what they had had. For Chad, he felt like he was breaking all sorts of rules. It had taken time for both of them to even come to conclusions about their relationship. To accept it for what it was.

"Of course I love him," Gabriella insisted, but she saw the flash of doubt on Andy's face. It was the same that appeared on Chad's sometimes when they fought or she was having a bad day. "He lets me leave room for Troy."

Chad had called the next weekend and they had chatted until Gabriella had to leave for a shift at work. Things were quiet for a couple of weeks until she saw online that he had been awarded MVP for the Redhawks team and she fired off a quick email followed by a voicemail offering her congratulations. Two weeks later, he called to let her know he'd be at Berkeley the next month and he hoped it would be okay to drive up to see her again. That's how it worked for awhile. They kept in touch, saw each other every few months, had coffee and called when they were having one of those days where everything seemed so overwhelming that nothing could make it seem like it would ever be okay again. In Chad, Gabriella found someone who didn't need an explanation to understand where she was coming from. He didn't mind leaving their relationship undefined while the two of them sorted out their feelings. Chad let her rebuild herself and in the process, the two of them found happiness.

It was Chad who learned first that Gabriella was abandoning medical school to pursue graduate work in psychology with an aim to work with hospital programs for patients and their families. It was Chad who told her Andy was getting married and who understood why she didn't want to attend the wedding. When Chad moved to New York in the fall of Gabriella's final year at Stanford, it was the final push Gabriella needed to accept NYU's offer to attend their PhD program the following year after graduation. That December 31, Gabriella spent New Year's Eve with Chad, watching the ball drop in Times Square while eating Chinese food. He didn't seem to mind that she spent most of it curled into his side, completely silent and unmoving. It was the little things that he understood that made it easier to move on.

"He didn't come with you?" Andy asked, bending his knees to shift position as his hands dangled between his legs to pluck a strand of grass from the ground. He twirled it between his fingers, mangling it.

"No," Gabriella answered quietly. "Time off is really tight at the precinct right now; he's working a couple of doubles for another officer."

After Troy's death, Chad spent the more difficult days at East High's gym during basketball practice. After the first few times, Jack Bolton had put him to helping with the drills and conditioning exercises; the same things he used when Andy appeared or he himself felt the heavy loss of his son. Soon, Chad had graduated to unofficial assistant coach. When he expressed interest in doing more than basketball, Jack found him a job working with an afterschool program at the community center than identified kids at risk for dropping out of school. After finishing his degree at U of A in Kinesiology, Chad had turned down playing basketball at a minor level and applied to the Police Academy. He took the spot offered in New York City and moved north, far from the childhood memories of his best friend. Gabriella had followed him the year after his training, and gradually, the two began to build a routine around each other.

He had proposed to Gabriella one evening in late March. They had gone to dinner with Chad's new partner and his wife, followed by a walk that led them to the quiet outdoor ice rink by the park. Chad and Gabriella had watched the lone couple skating on the ice, before Chad had dug a ring out of his pocket and held it out to Gabriella. He didn't get down on one knee like a knight in shining armour, because as he explained to her, they had saved each other. He simply asked if there was room for him in her heart; that he was willing to be whatever she needed him to be. To Chad, Gabriella was beautiful the way she was, and that included the fractures caused by Troy. Gabriella knew she'd never find anyone else willing to share her with someone they couldn't compete with, and the fact that Chad didn't see it as a competition, made her say yes.

"Will you stay in New York?" Andy asked. Gabriella's back ached from staying in the same position, the corner of the headstone's base digging into her spine. "Or will you move home to be closer to his parents?"

"We'll stay in New York, most likely," Gabriella told him. "We like the winters and the snow. I like the hospital there."

Unspoken understanding passed between them. Gabriella could never work in the hospital that symbolised her separation from Troy. She would never be comfortable being in the city that belonged to him and Troy; Chad could never hope to have her in the city that held the broken pieces of her heart. In New York, they could be alone. Gabriella jerked in surprise when Andy ran a finger along her bracelet with its silver links.

"You still wear it," he noted, like he did every time he saw her. "Why don't you add more charms to it?"

"There's no reason to," she replied quietly, as he looked at each one. There was the heart, the birthday cake and the Stanford crest from Andy during their handful of months. Then there was the Christmas tree. The skis. The rose. Troy's forever. The only charm not purchased by the brothers was the one Gabriella bought while in Seattle. _TB_ and the year that matched his headstone. She wore it on the same hand as her engagement ring. "Chad is my second chance. My ending."

"It seems bittersweet to me," Andy told her bluntly and Gabriella frowned. He shrugged, not seeing. "Maybe I'm wrong."

"Love has different faces," Gabriella reminded him. "It doesn't have to be black and white."

"How do you reconcile everything like that?" Andy asked, curious. "Make it so simple? Keep all your promises without breaking any?"

"I've broken promises before," Gabriella mentioned. "I try not to make ones I can't keep."

"Troy promised you forever." His love for his brother and his decisions were surfacing in Andy and Gabriella felt guilty for the answers she knew she would give him. "I thought you promised him the same thing."

"I did." Gabriella gave him a hard look.

"So what about Chad? Where's his forever?" Maybe it wasn't about Troy, Gabriella thought, maybe it was about figuring her out.

"He won't ask for one," Gabriella said softly, her heart aching for the pain she knew she sometimes caused him. People would ask how she could be a policeman's girlfriend or wife, and what would she do if he was hurt on the job; Gabriella always felt unsure how to answer because no one wanted to hear that it wouldn't be as difficult as the first time. "He knows I can't give him that."

"What will you give him?"

"Right now," Gabriella answered. "He gets right now. He gets 'til death do us part. He gets the rest of this life, and then when one of us goes, he'll let me go."

"It's a lot to give up," Andy murmured thoughtfully, weighing Gabriella's words.

"You did it once."

They were quiet for the remainder of the afternoon, each one lost in their own thoughts. When it was time to go, as the sun slipped behind the horizon and Gabriella's phone vibrated to remind her that she had a plane to catch, they stood and laid the roses on the base of the headstone. Gabriella allowed herself one graceful touch over the surface of Troy's name before she followed Andy towards her rental car and the white truck. Waiting until Andy had driven away, Gabriella turned away from her car and looked up the hill to where the sun dimly struck the spot beneath the tree. Raising her fingers to her lips, Gabriella blew Troy a kiss before sliding behind the wheel of her car.

On the road to the airport, she called Chad to double check he would be at the airport when her flight landed.


End file.
